


home is wherever I'm with you

by themetaphorgirl



Series: Patron Saint of Lost Causes [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aaron Hotchner Needs a Hug, Alex Blake is a queen, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Drama, Emily's goth/punk/emo phase gives me life, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Hotch is a dad, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Gideon's A+ Parenting, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 53,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetaphorgirl/pseuds/themetaphorgirl
Summary: a series of drabbles from the Patron Saint of Lost Causes Universe#1: "Emily put Reid in the closet"#2: Halloween candy#3: family dinner#4: "I call shotgun!"#5: "you didn't cut my sandwich in triangles"#6: "you should lie down"#7: puddles#8: "a big kid pushed me down"#9: "I'm great with kids"#10: Alex tricks Spencer into taking a nap#11: Spencer has appendicitis#12: post appendicitis#13: study group#14: Spencer falls asleep#15: bad day#16: drunk Emily#17: Spencer climbs trees#18: riding a bike#19: road trip!#20: fireflies#21: "who left Prentiss in charge?"#22: drunk Alex#23: pillow forts and power outages#24: fearing the worst#25: big sister#26: big brother#27: Emily makes a poor choice#28: the library incident#29: star wars
Series: Patron Saint of Lost Causes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935463
Comments: 98
Kudos: 376





	1. "Emily put Reid in the closet"

**Author's Note:**

> prompted from a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Hotch: Could anybody tell me where Reid is and why he missed morning briefing? Prentiss? Morgan?
> 
> Morgan: Reid? Sorry, Hotch, haven’t seen him since the last time we saw him.
> 
> Hotch: And when was that?
> 
> Emily: Last time we saw him? It’s definitely the time we saw him last.  
> Hotch: kids
> 
> JJ: Emilylockedhiminthecloset
> 
> Emily: hey!
> 
> Morgan: it was an accident?
> 
> Hotch: how could it be an accident?!
> 
> Emily: he walked in and I shut the door behind him!
> 
> Rossi: *disappointed father noises*
> 
> Hotch: it’s really only 8am? Garcia, open that whiskey.
> 
> Emily, grumbling: thanks a lot JJ
> 
> Hotch: Emily, don’t
> 
> JJ: *bottom lip wobbling*
> 
> Rossi: now you’ve done it
> 
> Hotch, visibly panicking: don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cryyyy
> 
> Reid, from the closet: is anybody gonna let me out?

Hotch bit back a yawn, leaning heavily on the banister as he made his way up the stairs. Usually he didn’t mind working as an RA, especially since he got spending money in his otherwise-empty flex account and a private room, but damn, why did they have to put him on the seventh floor? **  
**

He made it to the top of the stairs, the yawn finally breaking from his throat, and froze. “What the hell?” he said, perplexed.

Four teenagers sprawled across the room with cards in their hands; JJ dropped hers at the sound of Hotch’s voice. “We can explain,” Derek said quickly.

“Yeah, you better,” Hotch said. He frowned at the pile of kids. “You’re the only one who actually lives here. JJ, you can’t be in the boys’ wing after dinner. Emily, you’re in the wrong dorm entirely. And Rossi…you’re a day student, you don’t even live here.”

Dave shrugged. “I heard there was a poker game happening, and I couldn’t say no,” he said. “Emily, two cards, please.”

Emily leaned down from her perch on an old armchair to pick up the cards. “Catch!” she said, tossing them at his face.

“And you’re all out of uniform,” Hotch continued, eyeing the blazers tossed on the furniture and the untucked shirts.

“I’m not,” JJ said.

Hotch patted her head. “You’re the good kid,” he said. “Emily, on the other hand-”

“Emily looks great,” Emily interrupted. She tossed a handful of crumpled up dollar bills into the pile of money, candy, and a graphing calculator in the middle of the floor. “I’m all in.”

“Emily is perpetually out of dress code and I don’t know how she gets away with it,” Hotch said dryly. He looked around and frowned. “Where’s Spencer? He’s always around when somebody’s playing poker.”

“Spencer?” Derek said. He fanned out his cards and pretended to study them closely. “Sorry, Hotch. Haven’t seen him since…the last time we saw him.”

“And when was that?” Hotch said, folding his arms. 

Emily drummed her black-painted fingernails on her cards. “Last time we saw him?” she mused. “It’s definitely the time we saw him last.”

She looked at Morgan over her cards and they grinned at each other. “I saw that!” Hotch said. He glanced around the common room. “You guys are hiding something.”

“Yeah…Spencer,” Dave said under his breath, and Emily and Morgan burst out laughing.

“Kids,” Hotch warned. He looked down at JJ. The others weren’t going to answer him, but the fourteen-year-old was going pink in the face with the effort of keeping the secret, her mouth pressed shut. He crouched down, looked her in the eye, and arched an eyebrow. 

That was all it took. “Emily locked him in the closet,” JJ burst out, and she clamped her hands over her mouth.

Emily flopped back in her chair, her Doc Martens thumping against the arm. “Hey!” she said. She said something in Italian and Dave shot something back; they both burst out laughing.

Derek set his cards down and flashed his most charming smile at Hotch. “It was an accident?” he suggested.

“Don’t try that on me, it’s not going to work,” Hotch said, straightening up and glaring at them. “How could it be an accident?”

Emily shrugged. “He walked in and I shut the door behind him!” she said.

Dave sighed. “Youths,” he said, scanning through his cards.

“You guys should know better,” Hotch scolded. JJ dropped her head. 

“Come on, Hotch, you know how he is with poker, he was beating all of us!” Derek protested. 

“He’s only ten,” Hotch countered, his eyebrows drawing down. “I’m disappointed in all of you.”

Emily leaned back and crossed her arms. “Thanks a lot, JJ,” she grumbled.

JJ didn’t look up, but Hotch heard her sniffle. “Emily, don’t,” Hotch warned. “JJ?”

She raised her head and he could see her bottom lip wobbling. “Uh-oh,” Dave said. “Now you’ve done it.”

JJ rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m fine,” she said, but a fat tear rolled down her cheek.

“Dammit, Emily,” Hotch said. He didn’t do well with anybody crying, he never knew how to fix it. “JJ, don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry-”

“I’m not crying,” she said, and her narrow shoulders twitched with a hiccuping sob.

Dave clucked his tongue. “Aw, _cara_ , don’t cry, you’re not in trouble,” he said. He set down his cards and opened his arms. “Come here.”

JJ got up from the floor and curled up on the couch next to Dave. “I didn’t do anything!” Emily protested. Dave hugged JJ and shook his head at her in disappointment. “JJ, you know I’m not really mad at me, right?” The younger girl didn’t respond; Emily got up from her armchair and plunked down next to JJ.

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right, all right. Where were we?” he said.

Something thumped lightly against the narrow closet door. “Hello?” a little voice piped, slightly muffled. “Is anybody gonna let me out?”

“Shit!” Hotch said. “He’s still in the closet.”

“We forgot about Spencer,” Derek snickered. 

Hotch fumbled in his pockets. “Shit, did you guys lock him in? I don’t remember which key it is…”

Dave got up from the couch. “It’s not locked,” he said impatiently. He untwisted a rubber band from the handle and the door popped open. Spencer fell out of the closet and tumbled onto the floor in a little heap of gangly limbs, dragging a broom and a bucket with him.

“Spence?” JJ said, staring at him in concern.

“Guys, I had the best idea in there,” he said, still tilted upside down.

Hotch picked him up and settled him on his feet. “Hold on, hold on,” he said. “You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m okay,” Spencer said, scrunching up his face and making his pert nose twitch. The collar of his shirt stuck up and dust was smeared across his cheek. “But I got this great idea for my science project, I think I can-”

Emily plucked a hair tie off her wrist and shot it at him like a slingshot. “Boo,” she said. “You were cheating. You totally deserved a time out in the closet.”

Spencer’s mouth dropped open. “I did _not_ cheat,” he said. Emily took off another hair tie and held it up in a silent threat; Spencer ducked behind Hotch. “It’s all mathematics, there’s an equation-”

“Enough, all of you,” Hotch sighed. “It’s almost nine and I have to do bedchecks soon. Everybody out.”

“Who won?” Dave asked, taking a peek at Morgan’s cards.

“Nobody wins the pot, everybody gets their own stuff back,” Hotch said. They all groaned, but started cleaning reluctantly. “And if anybody puts anyone in a closet again, I will write people up. You know I will.”

“Funsucker,” Emily said under her breath, and Derek laughed.

“I heard that, Prentiss.”


	2. Halloween Candy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Hotch: Hey guys, gentle reminder not to eat too much candy before bed.
> 
> Reid: No.
> 
> Hotch: This was a gentle reminder, yet your words of defiance bring me ungodly amounts of rage.

“Goddammit, why do I have so many Whoppers?” Emily complained, tossing them into the communal pile of Halloween candy on the floor.

Dave flicked an M&M at her. “Don’t swear in front of the little kids,” he said, covering JJ’s ears.

“I’m not that little,” JJ protested. “Spencer’s the littlest one. I can swear.”

“Really?” Derek said. He grinned at her. “Say ‘fuck’.”

JJ stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t feel like it,” she said primly.

“God fucking dammit, more Whoppers!” Emily said. “This is a sign. I’m too old for trick-or-treating. I just need to buy clearance candy the day after like an adult.”

“That is boring,” Penelope said. She held up up a handful of brightly wrapped candies. “I’ll trade you the Whoppers for my Smarties?”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “Absolutely not. Somehow that’s worse.”

“You have no taste,” Penelope scoffed.

“I’ll trade everything for Twizzlers,” Derek said. He tossed a wrapper at Spencer. “Kid, you got anything to trade?”

Spencer glanced up, empty wrappers in both hands. “Hm?”

“Oh, lord, someone stop him,” Dave said. “How much have you eaten so far?”

“Three packets of Skittles, six Milky Ways, seventeen Warheads, a full size Crunch bar, a-”

Derek groaned. “Ugh, he’s going to be bouncing off the walls,” he said. JJ snickered.

“An IQ of 187, yet he turns into a little gremlin the second you give him sugar,” Emily said. “We’d better make sure he never gets his hands on coffee. Imagine, Spencer hyped up on sugar _and_ caffeine at the same time.”

“Actually, the concept that eating candy gives you a sugar rush is myth,” Spencer said.

“Actually, you’re proof that it’s definitely not a myth,” Morgan said. “I’m gonna sleep on the floor in Hotch’s room tonight.”

“Why are you sleeping on the floor in my room now?” Hotch asked as he rounded the corner. “I don’t-” He stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow. You guys collected a lot of candy, huh?”

“Maybe too much,” Dave said, nodding towards Spencer.

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Hey, guys?” he said. “Gentle reminder not to eat too much candy before bed.”

“No,” Spencer said, and he popped a handful of jellybeans in his mouth.

Hotch rubbed his forehead. “This was a gentle reminder, yet your words of defiance bring me ungodly amounts of rage,” he said. He wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist and hoisted him off the floor. “Quick, somebody grab the rest of his candy.”

“Put me down!” Spencer protested, wriggling in his one-armed grip.

Hotch held him easily. “We’re not having a repeat of last Halloween, Spencer. I refuse.”


	3. family dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted from a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Hotch: You’re all remarkably well behaved tonight.
> 
> Emily:
> 
> Morgan:
> 
> JJ:
> 
> Penelope:
> 
> Reid:
> 
> Hotch, sighing, puts down cutlery: What did you do?
> 
> Rossi: Aaron, i tried to stop them

When he applied to be an RA for the seventh floor of Lincoln House, he had expected normal situations, like roommates squabbling over their shared space or having to unlock somebody’s door at two in the morning. Hotch had not expected that he would end up being in charge of five unruly children- and only two of them were actually on his floor. Penelope and JJ were someone else’s responsibility, and Emily didn’t even live in Lincoln. It seemed like he was constantly rescuing Derek from fights he picked with upperclassmen, or forcibly putting Spencer to bed when he stayed up too late studying, or covering for Emily when she snuck out to party. Penelope and JJ didn’t get themselves into situations like the others, but he knew they weren’t as adorable and innocent as everybody thought.

At least now that Dave and Alex had been dragged into their weird family, it had taken some of the paternal pressure off his shoulders. The two seniors had become extra parents to the younger kids- although truthfully Hotch suspected that Dave was a bad influence, especially since he had a car and he was fairly certain he was giving Emily a ride to the parties with the public school kids in town.

Herding the kids in for dinner was always a nightly ordeal, especially if certain kids were running late. “C’mon, Hotch, please can we get in line?” Penelope wheedled. 

“We have to wait for the others.”

“If we wait too long, all the corn nuggets will be gone!” 

“I think you’ll live.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “I had three hours of football practice and I’m starving,” he said. “C’mon, man. The others can catch up.”

“We should at least wait for Spencer,” JJ said, calmly re-plaiting her hair. 

“She has a point,” Penelope admitted. “If we don’t keep an eye on him, he either won’t eat or he’ll just buy candy bars from the vending machine.”

“And trust me…as his roommate, you don’t want to deal with that kid on a sugar high when you’re trying to sleep,” Derek said.

Penelope raised up on her toes, scanning the crowded, noisy dining hall. “Look! I see Alex, she probably has Spencer with her,” she said.

Hotch followed her gaze. Alex navigated the crowd easily, Spencer following at her heels with a book tucked under his arm. “Sorry we’re running late,” she said. “It took me a little bit longer than usual to close up the library because _someone_ couldn’t figure out which book he wanted to check out.”

“You told me I could only pick one!” Spencer protested. 

“That’s because you’re reached your limit, and I’ve already gone into the computer system to raise your book limit twice,” Alex said. 

“Oh, I can fix that,” Penelope said. “I’ve hacked into the library system before, it’s-” Hotch raised an eyebrow and she stopped midsentence. “I mean…I’d never do that. Can we please get dinner now?”

“Sure, sure,” he said, herding them towards the line. He tugged JJ’s shoulder lightly to place her in front of him. “Dave and Emily will just have to fend for themselves. Where are they, anyway?”

Alex pulled two trays off the stack and handed one to Spencer. “Emily needed to run an errand, and since Dave’s the only day student we know with a car, he drove her,” she said. “They’ll probably be back soon.”

“Do you think they’ll remember the-” Derek started to say, but JJ elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow! Yeah, they’ll probably be back soon.”

Hotch ran his tray down the line, picking his dinner choices. “Jesus, Derek, leave some for the rest of us,” he said.

“I told you, Hotch, three hours of football practice. I’m so hungry I could eat Spencer right now.”

“Hey!” Spencer protested.

Hotch rolled his eyes. “JJ, you can’t eat just rolls. Vegetables.”

“Green beans suck.”

“Fine. Get salad instead. Something green, at least.”

Spencer pulled himself on the rail to see better; his arms were too short to reach properly. “What do you want?” Alex asked.

“Can I have ice cream?” he asked hopefully.

“No ice cream tonight. Remember?”

Spencer made a face. “I can’t see why I can’t have multiple desserts,” he said.

Alex scooped carrots onto his plate. “We’ll compromise,” she said. “Real food first, then dessert, and then _maybe_ second dessert.”

Hotch steered JJ towards their usual table and set his tray down; Penelope and Derek had already beat them there. He sank down in his chair, letting the other kids talk. It had been a long day. And if he was honest, it had been kind of a shitty day. He’d been hoping for a card, or at least a phone call. But…nothing.

Alex sat down next to him. “Are you doing okay, Hotch?” she asked. “You’ve been pretty quiet today.”

“Yeah, and your eyebrows are doing that thing,” Derek said, gesturing at his face.

“You look like Bert from Sesame Street,” Penelope commented, and JJ hid a laugh behind her hand. Alex made a warning face at the kids.

Hotch shrugged. “Had a test in civics class today, I guess that was it,” he said. “History of political parties.”

Spencer shifted around so he was kneeling on his chair instead of sitting. “You know, it’s really fascinating when you look back at how the parties were founded,” he said. “Like when the Know-Nothings were founded in the 1840s-”

Alex put his fork back in his hand. “Eat,” she said, and he obeyed.

Hotch rested his chin in his hand and stabbed his fork in his salad. He really didn’t have much of an appetite. _It’s just another day, Aaron_ , he told himself. _Suck it up. It’s not a big deal._

Emily plunked down in the chair across from him. “Sup, nerds,” she said, her Doc Martens clumping as they hit the floor. Her MCR tee shirt and ripped jeans were a sharp contrast to the rest of the kids in their navy blazers, khaki pants, and plaid skirts.

“Didn’t you just get written up yesterday for being out of uniform?” JJ asked.

Emily shrugged. “I had a few errands to run, and I was not about to go to town dressed like a store-brand Hogwarts student,” she said. “Oh, shit, they had corn nuggets tonight?”

Penelope tossed her one. “I might’ve gotten the last ones,” she said. “But I can share.”

“What were you doing in town?” Hotch asked.

Emily looked slyly at the others; Alex shook her head and said something in Italian. Emily rolled her eyes and retorted something back. “Guys, cut it out,” Derek said. “No Italian at the table. Right, Hotch? It was bad enough when it was just Alex and Rossi.”

“ _So cosa stanno dicendo_!” Spencer said brightly.

Derek snorted. “Not you too,” he said.

“You need to work on your accent a little, _passerotto_ ,” Emily said, ruffling Spencer’s untidy hair. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where’s Dave?” Hotch asked.

Emily paused. “He’s…uh…he’s coming,” she said. “He had to…get something. I’ll be right back.”

Hotch frowned. Emily was usually much better at lying.

He kept sliding his food across his plate, falling silent in the noisy chaos of the dining hall. But after a while he started to frown. Usually dinner was a lot more hectic- Spencer spilling more food than actually eating, Emily teasing the kids and then frantically apologizing when she pushed their buttons too much, Penelope shrieking about what happening on the TV show she was (illegally) streaming on her laptop, Derek and JJ arguing about their football teams.

“You’re all remarkably well behaved tonight,” he commented.

They all immediately fell silent, exchanging wide eyed glances.

He sighed and put down his fork. “What did you do?” 

They all answered at once.

“Nothing!”

“We’ve been perfect!”

“We didn’t do anything this time!”

Hotch turned to JJ. “Jennifer?” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she said. Hotch frowned. She was the best-behaved out of the bunch, he could always count on her to tell on the others if she thought they’d done something stupid or dangerous. Maybe they hadn’t done anything. Or maybe they had done something, but they used their powers for good instead of evil.

“Seriously, you guys, what did you do-”

Penelope leaped up and clapped her hands. “Shut up! Shut up! It’s time!” she shouted.

“Sorry it took so long, I couldn’t find a lighter anywhere,” he heard Dave say from behind him.

Hotch twisted around in his chair. Dave walked carefully towards him, balancing a cake bedecked in brightly lit candles. His heart tightened in his chest.

“Hotch, I tried to stop them,” Dave said, but he was grinning in the light of the candles.

“Bullshit, Dave, it was your idea!” Derek said. 

JJ smiled up at Hotch. “You thought we forgot your birthday, didn’t you?”

He nodded. Derek and Penelope had already launched into the birthday song at earsplitting volume. “Happy birthday, old man,” Dave said, setting the cake down in front of him. “I couldn’t find seventeen candles, hope twelve and a half is okay.”

Spencer wriggled in his chair. “Did you know that birthday cakes with candles might have originated with the Greeks?” he said. “But in 1746 a German count-”

Alex hoisted Spencer out of his chair and pulled him onto her lap, covering his mouth with her hand. “Save the facts for a second, let him have a moment,” she laughed.

Emily leaned over Hotch’s shoulder from behind him and flung her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday,” she said. “Make a wish and blow the candles out, we want cake.”

“Make a wish!” Penelope chanted, JJ and Derek quickly joining in. “Make a wish! Make a wish!”

Hotch had never been one for wishes. But he blew out his candles with a grin, and his only thought was that he was a lot luckier now with his newfound family than he had ever been in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Alex's first appearance in Patron Saint!


	4. "I call shotgun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Reid: I used to play catch with my dad
> 
> Reid: Except the ball hit the wall because he wasn’t there
> 
> Emily:
> 
> JJ:
> 
> Morgan:
> 
> Hotch: okay Reid gets to ride up front today

“So Rossi says we can borrow his car while he’s in his creative writing club meeting,” Hotch said, holding up the keys. **  
**

“I want to drive!” Emily said, but he raised the keys higher. “Dammit.”

“Shotgun!” three voices shouted simultaneously.

“Dammi!” Emily said. “Shotgun!” She reached for the door. “And I should get it because I’m older than the three of you.”

“That’s definitely not fair,” Penelope said.

JJ slid between Emily and the door, holding it closed. “Yeah, you didn’t say it fast enough,” she said. “We should rock paper scissors for it, that’s more fair.”

“You’re only saying that because you know I said it before you,” Derek argued. “And besides, I should get the front seat. I hurt my arm during practice yesterday.”

“Guys, stop arguing,” Hotch said. 

Penelope rolled her eyes. “Oh boohoo, handsome, you scraped your elbow, like, the _tiniest_ bit,” she said. “I fell on the stairs this morning, I think that’s worse.”

“Guys. Seriously.”

“You only fell because you keep wearing heels that are too high for you!” JJ protested. “I’m the one who got permission from Rossi to borrow his SUV, so I should get the front seat.”

“I used to play catch with my dad!” Spencer piped up.

They all turned to look at him. “Spencer, honey, that’s not-”

“I used to play catch, except the ball hit the wall, because my dad wasn’t there,” Spencer said.

A long pause.

“Oh, no,” Penelope said.

Hotch cleared his throat. “Okay, Spencer gets to ride up front today,” he said.

“Okay, that’s not fair!” Emily said, crossing her arms as Spencer popped into the front seat, beaming. “If that’s how this works, then next time I’m playing the ‘my mother neglected me’ card.”

“You had a pony and an annual pass to Disneyland Paris,” JJ accused. “My sister died! If anyone should get to sit in the front seat because of a sob story, it should be me.”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning on the roof of the car. “Just get in so we can go to Target,” he sighed.

“My parents died and it was my fault!” Penelope screeched, stamping her foot.

Spencer pulled up his legs to sit crosslegged in the passenger seat. “Nice going, Emily,” he said, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “You know, I still have more tragedy cards to play.”

“Is he even tall enough to sit in the front seat?” Morgan asked.

“Just get in the car!” Hotch said. “All of you! Right now! We can argue about who has had the toughest life later, I just want to go to Target.”

The kids obediently climbed into the car, squishing together without another complaint. Everyone stayed quiet.

“You know my football coach-” Derek started to say.

“I will turn this car around! Not another sound out of any of you until we are back on campus!”

At least the trip back to school was fairly uneventful and extremely quiet. Hotch was pleasantly surprised by how silent and obedient they were; they even let Derek sit in the front seat without a fight.

“I’m sorry I yelled earlier,” he said. “I think we need a better system for picking seats. For next time.”

He watched the other kids exchange looks in his rearview mirror. “So, um…are we allowed to talk now?” Penelope asked tentatively.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Hotch said. 

“Oh, thank God,” Emily said. “Now we can finally tell you that you left Spencer behind.”

“I...what?”

“You told us not to make another sound until we were back on campus!!”


	5. "you didn't cut my sandwich in triangles"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Morgan: whats up kid?
> 
> Reid, sitting on the side swinging his legs and sipping from a juice box: I am not a kid
> 
> Emily, handing him a sandwich: Yeah, right
> 
> Reid, quietly: you didn’t cut it into triangles

“Why does this school even have a playground?” Emily asked, stretching out her legs across the picnic blanket. JJ frowned; she sighed and moved her boots off the blanket and into the grass. “The youngest kids here are ninth graders, they don’t have kids here who need recess.” She paused, then pointed to Spencer sitting at the top of the slide, absorbed in a book. “Except for him. He’s an actual baby.” ****

“He’s reading The Theory of Everything,” JJ said dryly. 

“His socks don’t match, he’s afraid of the dark, and Hotch had to get that book down for him because he was too short to reach the top shelf. He’s a baby.”

“Don’t tell him you know about the afraid of the dark thing,” Derek warned. “He gets real touchy about it when people bring it up.”

Emily shot him a dirty look. “Then why did you tell me about it, dingus?”

“Anyways, to answer your question about the playground,” Rossi said, leaning over to pluck a soda out of the cooler. “They run camps out here in the summer, so they built it for free time sessions.”

Hotch shuddered. “God, I hate working summer camp,” he said. 

“That bad?” Penelope asked.

“You try being in charge of a bunch of middle school boys who go swimming and swallow chlorine all morning, and then get unlimited pizza for lunch.” Penelope clucked her tongue in sympathy.

“Hey, can I have a juice box?” Spencer called from the top of the slide.

JJ rummaged in the cooler. “Yeah, what flavor?” she called back.

“Not apple!” She picked up a purple grape box, walked over to the slide, and tossed it up. “Ow!”

“You could have put the book down long enough to catch it!”

Penelope frowned as she started unpacking the basket. “Who put Emily in charge of the food?” she asked. “Emily, have you ever been on a picnic before?”

“No,” she said, picking at her nail polish. She paused. “Unless you count the housekeeper serving lunch on the veranda instead of the morning room.”

“Yeah, poor little rich girl, that doesn’t count,” Hotch snorted.

“Then no, I’ve never been on a picnic before.”

Derek frowned. “What the hell is a veranda?” he said. 

“Well, I packed sandwiches, at least,” Emily protested. “That’s picnic food, right?”

“Hey, guys!” Spencer called, still perched at the top of the playscape structure. “Are you guys eating? I’m hungry too.”

“Come down and eat,” JJ said.

“No!” he said. “I want to eat up here!”

Emily jabbed her thumb in his direction. “What did I tell you?” she said. “A baby.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Hotch warned.

“What do you want, kid?” Derek called.

She could see Spencer’s scowl from their spot in the grass. “I’m not a kid!” he said.

Emily got up from the blanket, grabbed a sandwich, and walked over to him. “Yeah, right,” she said. “Stop fussing, eat your sandwich.”

He set aside his book and took the ziploc bag warily, his mouth beginning to draw down into a frown. “What?” she asked, her hands on her hips. 

“Nothing.”

“I know that face. What’s wrong?”

He held the sandwich at arms’ length. “You didn’t cut it into triangles” he said quietly.

Emily threw her hands up in the air. “What did I tell you?” she said. “A baby. You are a baby, Spencer Reid. Eat the damn sandwich.”

“Alex would have cut it into triangles,” he sulked.

“Well, Alex is off visiting prospective colleges today and you’re stuck with me,” she said. “Eat it.”

“It won’t taste right,” he said. “It tastes different in triangles.”

“How?” she said. “You’re a genius. Explain it.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Ha! See, there’s no explanation.”

“Hey, Emily!” Rossi called. “You cut his sandwich into triangles, right?”

“Yeah, he won’t eat it if you don’t cut it in triangles,” JJ added.

Emily huffed. “You’re such a baby, Spencer Reid,” she said, tugging on his ankle, but Spencer just grinned triumphantly and handed her the sandwich back.

“Wait, wait! Hold on, don’t touch it.”

“Oh, god, what the _hell_ , Emily? How could you mess up a sandwich this bad?”


	6. "you should lie down"

Hotch frowned. Spencer’s books were spread across the library table, his backpack was propped up on a chair, and the papers were covered in his scribbled handwriting…but Spencer was nowhere to be found.

“Spencer?” he said tentatively.

“…down here.”

Hotch frowned and looked under the table. Spencer sat cross-legged in the small space, surrounded by books, his chin resting in his hand. “We didn’t see you at lunch,” he said.

Spencer drummed his fingertips against his cheek. “Wasn’t hungry.”

Hotch crouched down, frustration mounting his chest. “We’ve been worried,” he said. “No one’s seen you or heard from you in hours.” Spencer raised and lowered one shoulder in an apathetic shrug. “Morgan’s been looking for you all over campus. Penelope and JJ are worried.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve been worried. After what happened we-”

He stopped. Spencer slammed a book shut and threw it down. “I can’t do it!” he said.

Hotch blinked. “Can’t do what?” he asked.

“Any of it!” Spencer burst out. “I need to write this stupid English paper and none of it makes sense!”

Hotch rocked back on his heels. “Take a deep breath,” he said. “You’re a genius, Spencer. You’ll be fine.”

“Sure, whatever,” he snapped.

“You’ve been running yourself into the ground,” Hotch said. “When’s the last time you actually got some sleep?”

“Some times when I sneeze, my eyes close,” Spencer said flatly.

Hotch sighed. “If you stop and take a break for a second, things will be easier,” he said.

“It should already be easy!” Spencer shouted, thumping his fists against his thighs. “Why is it so hard?”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Hotch said, his voice coming out more stern than he meant. “That’s enough.” Spencer knocked a pile of books aside and scooted away from Hotch, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Cut it out! Stop having a temper tantrum.”

He didn’t notice Alex approach until she was standing next to him, the toe of her heeled mary jane tapping lightly against the floor. “Hey, Hotch?” she said. “Any reason you’re having a shouting match with a table?”

He looked up at her, fighting back the sudden surge of embarrassment. “Spencer’s…in a mood,” he said.

Alex surveyed the chaotic mess. “I didn’t even know he was here,” she said. She knelt down beside him to look under the table. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Spencer slunk down further, crossing his arms and tilting his chin to his chest. “Nothing,” he said. 

Alex raised an eyebrow at Hotch. “Dad, you want to fill in here?”

“He skipped lunch and no one’s seen him all afternoon,” he explained. “We’ve been looking for him everywhere. And now he’s freaking out over an English paper, of all things.”

“Ah,” she said. “I’ve been there before. You hit that overload point, didn’t you?” Spencer shrugged. “You’re overwhelmed and the easy stuff suddenly feels really hard.”

“It should be easy,” Spencer mumbled. “I don’t know why I can’t do it.”

“You can, just not right now,” Alex said. “You should lie down. Get some rest, and something to eat, and James and I can help you with your paper tomorrow.”

“I need to do it now,” Spencer insisted.

“It’s the same one Penelope and JJ are working on, right, the Shakespeare paper?” Hotch said. “It’s not due till Monday. You have plenty of time.”

Spencer crossed his arms tighter. “I need to do it now,” he repeated, tight through his teeth, and he dropped his head forward, refusing to look at them.

“Spencer, this is childish,” Hotch said. “You need to calm down and think-”

Alex placed her hand on his arm. “Of course he’s being childish, he’s ten,” she said gently. “Hold on for a second.” He stopped and exhaled slowly.

Alex crawled under the table with Spencer, tucking her legs underneath her and smoothing out her skirt. After a moment she tapped his arm, and when he looked up, his eyes suspiciously wet, she started signing to him.

Hotch watched her, fascinated. Alex was a genius with languages; she and Rossi often had conversations in Italian, and she and Emily could speak to each other easily in French and Spanish too (sometimes Russian, but Emily’s Russian wasn’t as strong). Spencer had been enthralled by their secret conversations from the start and begged for them to teach him, so it was no surprise that he wanted Alex to start teaching him ASL when she started to learn.

There was a long pause before Spencer responded to Alex, his fingers hesitant. Hotch couldn’t understand what they were saying to each other but he could sense the need for privacy, so he stood up and started silently cleaning up the books, papers, and pens sprawled across the table.

Spencer hadn’t been himself lately. Not since the day a few weeks earlier when they found him chained to the goalpost. He hadn’t said much about it, which Hotch understood. Things like that didn’t heal overnight. But he didn’t know what to do to help, either.

Alex pulled herself out from under the table, her dark hair loose and staticky around her face. “Is he okay?” Hotch asked quietly.

“Just give him a second,” she said. She pulled the narrow navy ribbon out of her hair, smoothed back the sides, and retied it. “I’m going to close up the library. Don’t leave without me, okay?”

“Sure,” he said.

He piled the reference books into neat stacks and put Spencer’s things back into his messenger bag, the new one they’d chipped in to buy when his old backpack was ruined. The clip of the buckles seemed too loud in the silence. 

Spencer crawled out from under the table and stood up. “Hey,” Hotch said, trying to keep his voice gentle. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. He tucked in his rumpled uniform shirt and straightened his cardigan. “I’m sorry for…for freaking out.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I know we’ve avoided talking about it, but…we all know you’re trying to work through a lot of shit. It’s okay.” Spencer’s mouth pressed together in a kind of half smile, his big hazel eyes a little too bright.

“All right, you ready to go?” Alex said as she tugged her blazer on and fastened the gold buttons. “I know that technically I’m not allowed in Lincoln House on a school night, but…if I’m escorted by an RA I should be able to get in.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll sneak you in,” he said. He slung the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” 

He cleared his throat as Alex took off her keys lanyard and locked the library doors. “So…Morgan says you’ve been watching a documentary on the Romanovs,” he said. “Want to tell me about it?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. Hotch bit back a grin as he started talking a mile a minute. Truthfully, he only had a vague idea of what the kid was talking about, but if he was cheered up, then he was happy.

It was starting to snow a little, dusting their hair and their shoulders as they walked outside to make the trek to the dorm. Hotch regretted not wearing his coat; it hadn’t been that cold earlier in the day, but the sun had long since gone down. 

It was warmer in the dorm, Spencer’s energy seemed to flag as they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor, his rapid chatting slowing down. That wasn’t too much of a surprise- Morgan had told him that the kid was barely sleeping at night, and they’d all noticed he hadn’t been eating much lately.

Spencer unlocked his door; Hotch reached around him to flip on the lights. “Morgan’s probably at dinner with everybody else,” he said. “I’ll text him and the girls, let them know we found you.”

“I’ll text James and David and see if they’ll bring back dinner for us,” Alex said. She touched Spencer’s shoulder lightly. “Go put your pajamas on, okay?”

Hotch waited until Spencer was out of the room. “What did you two talk about?” he asked.

She sighed as she finished typing the text message and hit send. “He’s stressed,” she said. “A lot more stressed than any ten-year-old ought to be. And…”

“And what?”

“He’s scared,” she confessed quietly. “That part he didn’t say, but…it’s written all over him.”

Hotch took Spencer’s messenger bag off his shoulder and set it down on his desk chair. “He needs to open up more,” he said. “We can help him better if he would just talk to us.”

“It’s not that simple, Hotchner,” she said. “You can’t force him to behave the way you want, just because it makes things easier for you. You have to meet him where he is.”

Hotch fiddled with the strap of Spencer’s bag. He was suddenly reminded of his own memories, his own father, and he pushed the thought away. “You’re right,” he said, a little too firmly. “I’ll try…differently.”

Spencer walked back in and dropped his uniform in the laundry hamper. “I know I was talking about the Romanov miniseries, but I do you want to watch it with me?” he asked hopefully.

“Absolutely,” Alex said. She sat down on Spencer’s bed. “And James is going to drop off dinner. That sound good?”

He picked up the television remote and climbed up on the bed beside her. “You know, multiple women have claimed to be Anastasia Romanov, but no one’s claimed to be Alexei?” he said. 

“Oh, but that makes sense,” Alex said. “All it would take was a blood test and they’d know.”

“Why’s that?” Hotch asked.

“Because of the hemophilia,” Spencer said, as if it was painfully obvious. He turned on the TV. “Just watch, you’ll see.” He paused. “Do you want to stay and watch it with us?”

“Sure,” he said. He pulled the chair away from Spencer’s desk and sat down. “Why not?” He wasn’t terribly interested in the subject, but if it made the kid happy, he’d watch it. 

“Come on, lie down,” Alex said as the documentary started to play. Instead, Spencer crawled onto her lap, curling up against her. It was funny- Spencer hated to be touched by strangers, had even become notorious for spouting off germ statistics if someone tried to shake his hand, but he always seemed so happy and enthusiastic when someone from their group wanted to hug him.

_Maybe_ , Hotch thought, _he feels safest with us._


	7. puddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Alex: why are your shoes wet?
> 
> Reid: There was a puddle.
> 
> Alex: so, why did you step in it?
> 
> Reid:
> 
> Reid: It was a puddle!

> Chapel, like most things at St. Thaddeus School, was highly regulated. Boys seated on the left, girls seated on the right, divided by grade, ordered alphabetically. Alex glanced around from her vantage point in the back with the seniors. Faculty discouraged too much camaraderie before chapel started, but she always made it a point to scan for her group- Rossi and James on their opposite side with the senior boys, Emily surreptitiously texting with her phone half tucked under the hem of her blazer, Morgan showing off (typically while sitting on the top of the chapel pew), Hotch herding Penelope and JJ to the freshman girl section before sitting down with the junior boys and inevitably falling asleep. 
> 
> But she didn’t see Spencer, and that worried her a little. Usually he was one of the first kids there, reading a book while he waited for chapel to start. Maybe she missed him- he was half the size of the other freshman boys, he got lost in crowds pretty easily.
> 
> She was about to sneak her phone out of her pocket to text Hotch and see if he knew where Spencer might be (before he fell asleep, at least) but a small figure slipped through the doors at the back of the chapel right before they closed.
> 
> She caught his eye, frowning. _Where were you?_ she signed. _You were almost late._
> 
> He beamed at her. _Puddle_ , he signed back, and he ran down the aisle as the chapel service started, skidding on the slick floor.
> 
> _Puddle_? she thought, bemused. She would just have to wait till later. 
> 
> As soon as it was over she made her way through the wrong way traffic down towards the freshman section. Spencer was reading a book, clearly unaware that chapel ended. “Hey, what was that about?” she asked.
> 
> He looked around, realizing that everyone else was moving on to their next classes, and slid down from the church pew. “What was what about?” he asked.
> 
> She repeated the sign for puddle. “That,” she said. “Why-” She stopped. “Spencer. Why are your shoes wet?”
> 
> Spencer looked down and raised up on his toes. His dress shoes squelched, spitting out water, and his tall gray socks were wet almost up to his knees. “There was a puddle!” he said happily.
> 
> “So why did you step in it?”
> 
> He scrunched up his face, making his nose wriggle like a rabbit’s. “There was a puddle,” he said again, a little less cheerful.
> 
> She sighed. “Spencer, it’s November and it’s freezing-”
> 
> “You know, there’s no link between getting rained on and catching a cold,” he said quickly. 
> 
> “But there’s definitely a correlation between being tired and stressed and catching a cold, and you, my darling, are the most tired and stressed-out ten-year-old I’ve ever met,” she said. “And besides, you don’t have time to go back to your dorm and change since you don’t have a free period.”
> 
> His face fell. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”
> 
> “Well, I know you’ll remember next time,” she said. “Go to class, and be good, okay? Drink your orange juice.”
> 
> “Actually, it’s healthier to eat a whole orange than just drink juice,” he said.
> 
> “Fine, eat an orange,” she said. “Now go before you’re late for your next class.”
> 
> He darted off, his messenger bag full of books weighing him down, and she shook her head as she took out her phone to text Hotch.
> 
> _heads up- spencer decided to play in puddles. $10 he gets a cold_
> 
> Her phone buzzed when she was halfway to her next class.
> 
> **Aaron “Dad” Hotchner**
> 
> **10:57**
> 
> _jesus fuck_
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hotch had really been hoping that Alex was wrong (mostly because he didn’t want to pay her the ten dollars) but Spencer started sneezing and coughing two days after his little puddle adventure. He tried to convince the kid to take it easy, but Spencer stubbornly refused to stay in his room or go the infirmary. And that meant that not only did Spencer’s cold shift from “a mild nuisance” to “oh shit,” but he managed to pass it on to Emily and Morgan in short order. **  
> **
> 
> And that was how Hotch found himself quarantined with three sick kids having a sleepover in his room, two of them piled on the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows and the third commandeering his bed. His only safe space was his desk.
> 
> “I’m so pissed!” Emily said, throwing her used tissue at the trash can. She missed, but she didn’t bother to get up and fix it. “God. I have to spend my Friday night holed up with you guys.”
> 
> “You’re pissed?” Morgan said. 
> 
> “Rossi was going to give me a ride to a party at the Hohenwald place. They were gonna have jello shots.”
> 
> He pushed himself up on his elbows, scowling. “I have to miss my game tonight. They’re gonna put Wallace in for me. _Wallace_.”
> 
> “ _Jello shots_ , Morgan.”
> 
> “Stop shouting,” Hotch said. “If you wake up Spencer I’ll murder both of you.”
> 
> “Oh, he can suffer a little bit. Punishment for him giving us his cold,” Emily said.
> 
> “I mean it,” Hotch warned. “I’ve been trying to get him to take a nap all afternoon.” He glanced over at the little lump under the covers; Spencer had the blankets pulled up to his ears so only the top of his head was visible. “And I didn’t have to let you guys stay in my room. I can get in a lot of trouble for this.”
> 
> Morgan coughed. “Oh, you know Gideon won’t care,” he said. “And at least this means we won’t get JJ or Penelope sick.”
> 
> “Let us complain, it’s the only joy we have right now,” Emily said.
> 
> Hotch sighed. “Well, just quiet down and let Spencer sleep,” he said. “And let me work on my homework.”
> 
> Morgan rolled over in his pillow-blanket-sleeping bag nest, flopping on his back. “It’s Friday, Hotch,” he said. “You have the whole weekend to work on your homework. Live a little.”
> 
> “How can I when I have to keep an eye on the three of you?” he said. “You know, this isn’t exactly my idea for a fun Friday night either.”
> 
> Emily sat up, her fleece blanket dragging from her shoulder. She looked younger with her face scrubbed clean of her usual heavy makeup. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Look at us. We’re totally fun-”
> 
> Her sentence ended in a piercing sneeze. Morgan tossed her a tissue box, bonking her on the head. “Fuck, Morgan!”
> 
> “Sorry, sorry.”
> 
> “Hand sanitizer. Now,” Hotch said. “Both of you.” He looked over at Spencer. As far as he could he tell they hadn’t woken Spencer up. But he was terribly still. Maybe he was dead…
> 
> “Ugh,” Emily said, dumping her used tissues in the trash can. “I’m over this.” She tugged a hairtie off her wrist and pulled her hair up into a messy attempt at a bun. “And I’m starving. Can’t I just order pizza?”
> 
> Hotch scowled. “Listen, I know you think everything can be solved with your mom’s credit card, but pizza probably isn’t the best thing when you’re sick,” he said. “Alex and Rossi should be here soon.”
> 
> Emily huffed and flopped back on her pile of pillows. “Can we at least watch TV?” Morgan asked. 
> 
> “Only if you keep the volume low,” Hotch said. “Remote’s over there.”
> 
> He tried to go back to his work. “Hotch, where’s your Netflix?”
> 
> “I don’t have Netflix.”
> 
> “Are you kidding me?”
> 
> “I’m not. I’m not spending nine dollars a month on it.”
> 
> “Yeah, you’re definitely not any fun,” Emily said. She grabbed the remote from Morgan’s hand. “I’m signing you in with my password, and you’re not allowed to argue. Just make your own profile because I do not want you messing up my recommendations.” Hotch sighed heavily and went back to his math homework.
> 
> After a while someone knocked on the door and Morgan scrambled to his feet to answer it. “Hey, guys,” Alex said. “Nice jammies, Morgan.”
> 
> He glanced down at his Space Jam tee shirt and plaid flannel pants. “Thanks. What’d you bring us?”
> 
> He closed the door behind her as she walked in and set a couple of bags down on the desk. Hotch threw his hands up in the air in silent frustration. “I’ve got dinner for everybody, and Dave should be right behind me with the stuff he and James got from the pharmacy in town,” Alex said, unpacking a couple of to-go containers and plastic utensils. “I got soup for Spencer. How’s he doing?”
> 
> “Asleep, finally,” Hotch said, nodding towards the lump under the covers. “It’s a miracle he hasn’t woken up yet with these two shouting at the top of their lungs.”
> 
> “We haven’t been that loud,” Emily scoffed.
> 
> “Just please don’t wake him up,” Hotch pleaded. “I didn’t think it could be harder to get him to fall asleep, but somehow it is when he’s sick.”
> 
> “Fine, fine, we’ll be quiet,” Morgan said.
> 
> The door banged open and Spencer bolted upright like a zombie shocked back to life. “I’m here, I’m dropping things off, and then I am leaving before I catch whatever this is!” Rossi bellowed. He paused. “Why are you all staring at me like that?”
> 
> Spencer let out a sleepy, startled squeak. “Nice going, Rossi, you woke him up,” Hotch sighed.
> 
> “Oh, shit,” Morgan said. 
> 
> Spencer coughed into his elbow, harsh and barking. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice thick.
> 
> “My room,” Hotch said. “You tried to go to the library after sixth period, but I put you in quarantine with Morgan and Emily instead.”
> 
> He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t remember,” he mumbled. “Did I fall asleep?”
> 
> “Yeah, finally, until someone barged in and woke you up.”
> 
> Rossi raised his hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t know he was sleeping.”
> 
> Alex took off her coat, hanging it from a hook on the closet door, and sat down on the edge of Hotch’s bed. “Which one do you need more- sleep or food?” she asked.
> 
> Spencer shrugged. Hotch had convinced him to change out of his uniform and borrow one of his shirts, and his small frame was drowning in fabric. “I think I’m hungry,” he said.
> 
> Alex stroked his damp hair back from his flushed face. “Food first, then,” she said. She frowned, then placed her hand over his forehead. “Wait. Medicine first, then food. You’re burning up.”
> 
> Rossi handed her one of the bags. “I’m gonna leave this with you, because I’m not any good with sick people,” he said. Spencer sneezed. “Especially sick children. Good luck, everybody.” Hotch rolled his eyes as Rossi hightailed it out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him. Morgan shrugged, turning back to his dinner, and Alex pressed a measuring cup of bright blue liquid cold medicine into Spencer’s hand. He took in a single swig and grimaced.
> 
> Emily went back to flipping through Netflix. “All right, what are we going to watch?” she asked. 
> 
> “I don’t care,” Hotch said. “Just pick something and be quiet.” He sneezed. “Fuck. If you three got me sick, I’m going to murder all of you.”
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hotch stared at his room in dismay. “But where am I going to sleep?” he protested. **  
> **
> 
> Emily patted the floor between her and Morgan; the two of them had combined their blankets and pillows to make a sort of cross between a nest and a blanket fort. “Right over here, champ,” she said. She tossed a tissue at him. “Join us. You’re going to get sick anyway.”
> 
> He dodged the tissue and frowned. “I’m up to my ears in vitamin C and zinc, I better not catch whatever you guys have,” he warned.
> 
> “Then stop bitching,” Morgan groaned into his pillow. “Just move Spencer.”
> 
> “I can’t move Spencer!” Hotch protested. He looked desperately at his comfortable bed and the little kid currently preventing him from sleeping in it. Spencer had valiantly fought off sleep for hours, to the point that Hotch was afraid he’d never sleep again. It took two and a half episodes of Great British Bake Off (the only show Hotch had managed to get everyone to agree on) before he gave in to the Nyquil he’d been given, and then it had been extremely touch-and-go to figure out how to get him off Alex’s lap without him waking up. And now he was fast asleep in Hotch’s bed, his cheeks still rosy with fever and his favorite blanket clutched to his chest. 
> 
> Spencer looked so angelic, and he knew he was sick…but he was so tired. Hotch tentatively reached out and touched his arm gingerly, trying to figure how he could possibly pick him up and get him out of his bed. Spencer screwed up his face and mumbled something, hugging the blanket tighter.
> 
> Hotch backed up quickly. “No, no, I’m just going to let him sleep,” he said. 
> 
> “Yeah, that’d be kind of mean, I guess,” Emily admitted. “So where are you going to sleep?”
> 
> Hotch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Morgan and Reid’s room, I guess,” he said. “How the hell did this happen to me?”
> 
> “I don’t know, but thanks for letting us turn your room into quarantine,” Morgan said. 
> 
> “Emily, you’re in charge,” Hotch said as he gathered up his pajamas and his phone. “Wake me up if either of you feel worse. Or if the kid gets worse.”
> 
> “Aye aye, captain,” Emily said. She picked up the remote. “Derek, what do you want to watch?”
> 
> “No TV. Go to sleep.”
> 
> “Ha! No, you put me in charge and we can do whatever we want.”
> 
> “Fine. Just don’t wake up Spencer,” Hotch said. closing the door behind him as they started to argue about TV shows again. Fine, let Emily be in charge for a while instead.
> 
> It was immediately clear upon entering which side of the dorm room was Morgan’s and which was Spencer’s. Hotch nudged some of the clutter away on the floor blocking the path to Morgan’s bed, plugged his phone into the charger, and fell asleep in seconds. He’d never had to take care of three sick children at the same time, and it was exhausting.
> 
> He woke up to pale winter sunlight streaming through the window and a stabbing pain in his throat. Swallowing felt like he had been chewing on glass and was too stupid to spit it out.
> 
> He sat up, pressing his hands to his pounding temples. He caught their cold. He caught their stupid cold, and now he was going to spend the next week in misery just like them. Now he really regretted not finishing his math homework the night before.
> 
> “Good morning!”
> 
> He shrieked and pressed his hand to his throat. “Oh, Jesus fuck shit…” he mumbled. He forced himself first to swallow, and then to make direct eye contact with whichever gremlin decided to scare the daylights out of him.
> 
> “Sorry,” Emily apologized. She held out a bottle of gatorade and a bottle of dayquil, both neon orange. “I thought you might want these.”
> 
> He took them, still blinking the grogginess out of his eyes. “Where did you come from?” he rasped.
> 
> “Well, Spencer woke up around three in the morning and wanted to be in his own bed, and Morgan didn’t want him to be alone, and then I didn’t want to be alone, so here we are,” Emily said.
> 
> Hotch peered past her. “What the hell?” he said. Somehow Morgan and Emily had moved their entire blanket fort into the room without him waking up; Morgan was burrowed in the middle of it. “Where’s…where’s Spencer?”
> 
> “Don’t worry, he’s still asleep,” Emily said, jabbing her thumb in the direction of Spencer’s bed. Spencer slept curled up on his tummy, his blankets dumped on the floor and his hair strewn across the pillow. “I can be a good babysitter when I feel like it.” She sat down on the bed beside him. “So the plague’s struck you now, huh?”
> 
> He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m gonna murder all three of you,” he said.
> 
> “No one’s murdering anyone,” JJ called, trying to keep her voice low. She bumped the door closed with her hip, balancing several mismatched mugs in her hands. “Take the medicine. You’ll feel better. And I made tea.”
> 
> “JJ, you shouldn’t be here, I’m trying to keep you and Penelope from getting sick too,” Hotch said, but he accepted the mug she handed him. 
> 
> “We’ll be fine,” JJ said. She picked up Spencer’s blankets and tucked them around him. “We’re a lot more capable than you think, Hotch.”
> 
> “But I’m supposed to be in charge,” he said faintly.
> 
> “Not right now,” Emily said. She pulled up her legs to sit cross-legged on the end of his bed. “So what do you want to watch? It’s your turn to pick.”
> 
> He blew on the surface of the hot tea, then took a tentative sip. “Terminator 2?” he asked.
> 
> “Of course that’s what you’d pick. All right, fine, I guess. Just this once, Hotchner.”


	8. "a big kid pushed me down"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Emily: How was your day?
> 
> Reid: This guy pushed me down.
> 
> Emily: Did you push him back?
> 
> Reid: No, he was bigger than me.
> 
> Emily: Huh. Morgan?
> 
> Morgan: I’m on it.

He found them by the stairs near the amphitheater; Morgan had the contents of his backpack strewn across the top step and Emily was sitting on the concrete wall while she fiddled with her phone. Spencer dropped his backpack on the ground beside them. “Hey, sorry I’m late, I got held up after sixth period,” he said.

Emily dropped her phone in her pocket. “Don’t worry, you’re not that late,” she said. 

“What were you doing?” Morgan asked, still focused on shoving his papers and binders into his backpack so he could zip it shut. “Asking for extra homework?”

“Not this time.”

Emily stuck a stick of gum in her mouth, crumpled up the wrapper, and tucked in her pocket. “So what was the…holy shit.”

Morgan dropped his backpack, scattering the contents. “What the fuck, Prentiss?” he said.

“Look at Spencer. Look at him right now.”

Spencer shifted his weight uneasily as both Morgan and Emily stared at him. “What?” he said.

“Your face!” Emily said. She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “What the fuck happened, munchkin?”

“What happened?” Morgan demanded. “Did you fall again?”

Spencer squirmed. He hadn’t seen what he looked like quite yet, but he had a feeling it wasn’t great. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. She moved her hands to grip his skinny wrists just firm enough that he couldn’t exactly escape. “Today I had a test in pre-cal and they had tater tots in the dining hall. How was your day?”

Spencer gulped, keenly aware of both Emily and Morgan staring him down. “This guy pushed me down,” he said, his voice coming out in a squeak.

Emily squeezed his wrists gently. “Well, did you push him back?” she asked.

“No. He was bigger than me,” he said.

Emily frowned, making her out-of-dress-code black lipstick crack at the corners of her mouth. “Huh,” she said. She looked up at Morgan out of the corner of her eye. “Morgan?”

He dumped the rest of his stuff in his backpack and threw it on his shoulder. “I’m on it,” he said. “Which one, pretty boy?”

“It’s not a big deal-” he tried to argue, but they were both scowling at him. He wasn’t sure if they were angry with him, or at whoever tried to push him down the stairs. “Neal. And Dallas.”

Morgan patted his shoulder. “I’m on it,” he said, already jogging away. “Emily! Text Hotch!”

She let go of Spencer’s wrists and pulled her phone out of her also-out-of-dress-code denim jacket, the jumbo safety pins on the collar jingling. “Already on it,” she shouted back.

He fidgeted as she texted Hotch, fingers moving rapid-fire over her phone. She frowned in concentration as he tugged his perpetually-falling left sock. “Emily?” he ventured. 

“What, kid?” she asked absently.

“Are you mad at me?”

She nearly dropped her phone. “Fuck!” she said, and he took a startled step back. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, you just surprised me.” She set her phone down and took his hands in hers. “I’m not mad. Seriously. At all. Neither is Morgan. We’re mad because somebody hurt you.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “They just pushed me around a little. They didn’t take any of my books or tear them up this time.”

“Fuck the books,” Emily said. “We can replace them. Shit, if something happens I’ll buy you new books. We don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I’m okay,” he said again. 

Emily sighed. “Your right eye is swelling shut and you have blood all over your face. And all over your shirt,” she said. “Let’s try this again. We don’t want you getting hurt. You’re clearly hurting. What hurts the most?”

He hesitated. His eye had been hurting, and he felt a little stuffed up, but he hadn’t thought it was this bad. “I’m bleeding?” he said in a small voice.

Emily dug around her pockets, first her jacket and then her skirt. “Ugh, Alex has been telling me I need to carry tissues. Don’t tell her she was right.” 

“My nose hurts,” he said.

Her expression softened. “Yeah, I know, babe,” she said. “Hotch is on his way to come get you, okay?” She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “And Morgan is gonna beat the everloving shit out of Neal and Dallas. They won’t bother you again. How does that make you feel, huh?”

He bit his lip. “Honestly? A little bit dizzy, I think…”

“Oh, fuck,” Emily said. “You’re not allowed to pass out. You have to wait for Hotch to get here so he can deal with you passing out.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Emily said fervently. “Hotch, come get the baby! This is too much responsibility for me to handle!”

Hotch bent over him, scruitinizing his injuries. “Spencer, you okay?” he asked. He probed gently at his sore eye with his thumb and Spencer winced. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Morgan’s chasing down Neal and Dallas,” Emily said. 

“That’s good,” Hotch said, frowning. “Hey, don’t worry. You’re going to get a pretty bad black eye, but no lasting damage, I think. Let’s get you back to Lincoln House and get some ice on your face.”

“And get the blood off him,” Emily said. She picked up Spencer’s backpack, slinging it on top of her Kate Spade bag covered in enamel pins. “You look like Carrie after the prom.”

Hotch picked Spencer up and he wrapped his arms around his neck. “Who’s Carrie?” he asked. “One of your friends?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Jesus, we need to work on your pop culture knowledge,” she said.

Hotch adjusted him against his chest. “We’ll worry about that later,” he said. “He might be a little young to watch Carrie.”

“I saw Carrie when I was eight.”

“Looking at you, that’s not a very good argument.”


	9. "I'm great with kids"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by a post by criminalmindsgonewrong
> 
> Hotch: You’re such a bad role model.
> 
> Emily: No I’m not!
> 
> Hotch: You curse all the time.
> 
> Emily: That’s bullshit!

“Oh, fuck!” Emily exclaimed. She drew her hand back from the railing and shook out her fingers. “Oh, shit, that hurt.” **  
**

“What did you do?” Rossi asked, glancing up from his homework. The older kids had met in the quiet amphitheater to work together while the weather was nice, but clearly nature was still out to get them.

“Fucking rosebushes,” she grumbled. She squinted at the thorn stuck in the side of her index finger. “Shit fucking damn.”

Rossi turned a page in his book. “Don’t be a baby, you’ll live,” he said.

“Here, let me see,” James said. Emily held out her hand and James gently wiggled the thorn out. “You’ll live, but yeah, that sucks.”

Emily scowled. “Fuck,” she mumbled again. She looked up to see Hotch glaring at her. “What?”

“You need to watch what you say around the younger kids,” he said. “I don’t want them picking up on your bad habits.”

“Lighten up, my dude, you swear all the time,” she shrugged.

“I try not to swear around the younger kids,” Hotch said patiently. 

Alex laughed. “Have you seen Penelope’s tumblr? She’s come up with profanity combinations that I’ve never seen before,” she said. 

“Okay, maybe not Penelope, but JJ and Spencer,” he countered. “Especially Spencer.”

“I’m pretty sure Spencer knows curse words.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t use them, and I don’t want him to start,” Hotch said. “JJ too.”

“Oh, JJ can swear too, I’m sure of it.”

Hotch sighed. “Just cut it out, okay?” he said. “You’re a really bad role model.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Oh no, shots fired,” Rossi said. He mimed shooting little finger guns; Alex smacked his arm lightly. 

“I’m not a bad role model, Hotchner,” she said.

“You curse, like all the time,” he shrugged.

“That’s bullshit!” she exclaimed. Hotch shot her a pointed look. “You know what I mean. I’m a great role model. I’m great with kids.” 

“You’ve never spent time with kids younger than you before this semester,” Alex said dryly. 

Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine,” she said. “But I am great with our kids.”

“That’s because JJ is basically a sensible soccer mom in a teenager’s body, Penelope spends way too much time on the internet, and Spencer talks like a college professor and tutors you in pre-cal,” Hotch said. “

“Hey, he got me from a low C to a low A, so…good for him,” Emily said. “I swear, I’m good with kids. I’m a great role model.”

“Sure you are,” Alex said. 

“Don’t patronize me, Miller.”

“All I’m saying is that you’re a bad role model and you’re not as great with children as you think you are, and the second one of the kids acts their age you’re not going to know what to do,” Hotch, pointing his pen at her.

Emily pulled the pen out of his hand. “Fuck you, Hotchner, I’m great with kids,” she said.

A week later she found out that he was correct, and she was not, in fact, great with kids.


	10. Alex tricks Spencer into taking a nap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "This isn't in the list of prompts, but I was wondering what a good situation would involve 'you're okay' with CM?"

Alex flipped through her notes and frowned as a paper airplane sailed over her head. “Derek, give it back!” Penelope shrieked.

“Derek, you heard her, give it back,” she said absently as she compared the notes with her copy of Jane Eyre. It was pouring rain outside, destroying everything they had planned for Saturday, and everyone was bored out of their minds, leaving Penelope to break out every craft supply she owned. Hotch was at an RA meeting and David and James were off campus, so she and Emily had been left to keep an eye on the common room and make sure the younger kids didn’t blow anything up. Not that Emily was much help.

“Gimme the red sharpie,” Emily said. She took the paper airplane and drew along the wings. “It won’t fly right if it doesn’t look good.”

“Oh, wait, let me get my glitter!” 

“No, Penelope, no glitter. You remember what happened last time,” Alex said. She shifted around in the armchair to look at Emily. “You could help keep order, you know?”

Emily was lying on her stomach on the floor, busily coloring. “What do you mean?” she said. “Nothing’s broken yet.”

“Yet,” Alex mumbled under her breath, surveying the chaos. Paper and markers spread across the floor; JJ was reading a book but Derek, Penelope, and Spencer were surrounded by half-folded planes. 

“Here, kid, like this,” Derek said, reaching over to help Spencer.

“No!” Spencer said. “I can do it myself! I know how to do it!”

“I’m just trying to help, pretty boy, calm down.”

“I don’t need help!” Spencer said. The notebook paper caught in Derek’s hand and tore. JJ looked up over the pages of her book. “You ripped it!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Derek said. “Here, we can make another one.”

Spencer clutched the the rest of the rest of the paper plane in his tight grip. “You ripped it!” he said again, his voice rising. He was pale but his cheeks were getting a little flushed, and his eyes were rimmed in dark circles. “I could have done it by myself!”

Emily pushed herself up to sit crosslegged. “Hey, hey, slow down, champ,” she said. “Don’t get cranky, it’s just a stupid airplane. You can make another one.”

“He shouldn’t have touched it!” 

“Spencer, it’s okay, sweetie,” Penelope soothed. She held up another piece of paper. “See, we can-”

“No!” Spencer yelped.

Alex set her notes aside. She had an idea of what was really bothering the youngest of their group. “Hey, Spencer,” she said. He whipped around to face her, the paper crumpling in his fist. “Can you come help me with this? I could use another pair of eyes.”

“Fine,” he huffed, throwing the paper down on the floor. 

She shifted her books around to make room on the oversized armchair. “Come sit with me,” she said. She caught Emily’s eye, and thankfully, Emily understood.

“Hey, who else wants to go on a coffee run?” she said, getting up off the floor and brushing off her pants. “Let’s go. My treat. Come on, you too, blondie.” JJ set down her book with a sigh, but followed Emily and the other kids out of the room. 

“Get us something too,” Alex called.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, already on it.”

Spencer climbed onto the armchair next to Alex. “What are you working on?” he asked.

She tucked her arm around him. “Jane Eyre,” she said. “I’m analyzing the scene where she meets Mr. Rochester for the first time.”

He rubbed his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s important,” he said. “It really shifts the action of the narrative.”

“It does,” she said. “Here, I’ll read some of it, and you tell me what you think, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, shifting around until he was almost sitting on her lap.

She held the book open so he could see it. “The ground was hard, the air was still, my road was lonely,” she read aloud. “I walked fast till I got warm, and then I walked slowly to enjoy and analyse the species of pleasure brooding for me in the hour and situation.”

The older kids had discussed Spencer’s relentless insomnia often- Hotch was at his wit’s end trying to figure out how to get him to actually sleep at night. Spencer survived on naps, usually in strange place at inopportune times. And Spencer fought back when they tried to talk to him about it and insisted he wasn’t a baby, he didn’t need them to tell him what to do.

“On the hill-top above me sat the rising moon; pale yet as a cloud, but brightening momentarily, she looked over Hay, which, half lost in trees, sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys,” she read, keeping her voice soft and warm. Spencer leaned closer to her and his head dropped to her shoulder. “it was yet a mile distant, but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly its thin murmurs of life.” 

They could always tell when he was exhausted, but they had to make him think that sleeping was his idea or he wouldn’t do it. As of yet, this was the only thing that seemed to work, and she was the only one who could pull it off.

“The din was on the causeway: a horse was coming; the windings of the lane yet hid it, but it approached,” she read. Spencer had crawled into her lap by then, his eyes struggling to stay open, and she rested her chin on the top of his head. “I was just leaving the stile; yet, as the path was narrow, I sat still to let it go by.”

She read until she was sure he was asleep, his breath catching in little snores and warm against her neck. Carefully she turned the page to the part she was actually supposed to be studying. 

After a while he started to shift, mumbling something unintelligible. She set her book down and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re okay,” she said softly. “You’re okay, go back to sleep.”

He mumbled something that almost sounded coherent, but he started to settle back down, burrowing against her. She tried to pick her book back up, but she couldn’t quite wrestle it back, so she gave up and let Spencer sleep.

After a while Hotch peeked into the common room. “Hey,” he whispered. “He asleep?”

“Out like a light,” she whispered back.

Hotch walked over to her, sidestepping the craft explosion on the floor. “I saw everybody else getting coffee, they told me he was about to freak out and you were trying to get him to take a nap,” he said. 

“Yeah, he was being a real brat for a while there, but I’m guessing he didn’t sleep at all last night,” she said.

“Not a bit,” Hotch said grimly. “Here, let me take him.” 

Alex kept her hand under Spencer’s neck as Hotch scooped him up; her arms had started to prickle and fall asleep under his weight. “You need a hand?” she asked.

Thankfully Spencer stayed asleep in Hotch’s arms, his cheek pressing into his shoulder. “No, I’ve got him,” Hotch said. “I’ll be right back.”

She stretched out her arms and went back to her homework. The others came back not long after that, but Penelope and Derek cleaned up art supplies and JJ turned on the common room TV. Emily handed Alex her chai latte.

“Thanks for reading my mind,” Alex said.

“Oh, believe me, it was pretty obvious,” Emily said. “He was either going to spontaneously combust or fall over asleep. And besides, I wanted coffee.” Alex laughed. “Is he doing okay?”

“I think so, but I have a feeling we’ll need to come up with a new trick to get him to sleep,” Alex said. “It’s only a matter of time before he figures out what we’re doing.”


	11. Spencer has appendicitis

He thought it was just a stomachache.

It was just little twinges at first, just enough to divert his attention for a moment. He figured it was probably just that he ate too much junk food, or he wasn’t sleeping enough (he never slept enough), or maybe he was stressed over the big test he had coming up in his history class.

The little twinges turned to big twinges, and then turned to a dull steady ache at the pit of his stomach. And on Friday morning, the dull steady ache had turned into cramps that squeezed tight and threatened to wander to his side. Maybe he was more nervous about the test than he thought.

He couldn’t even eat anything at lunch. Slowly he dragged his fork around on his plate, resting his chin in his hand, his stomach squeezing tighter and tighter. 

“Spencer, aren’t you hungry?” Hotch said. “You haven’t eaten anything.”

He raised his head. “I don’t think I’m hungry,” he said.

“Still stressed about your history test?” Derek asked. 

He jabbed his fork into his pasta. “I hate essay questions,” he said. “I don’t think they’re an adequate gauge of knowledge if you’re rushing to get it done in the time allotted.”

David laughed. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, you’ll do fine,” he said. He bit his lip.

“Don’t make that face,” Alex said. “David’s right, it’s not going to be as hard as you think it will be. How about we figure out something fun to do tonight once it’s over?”

“Okay,” he said reluctantly, digging his fork into his food. He wasn’t hungry, not even in the slightest.

The big kids were wrong. The multiple choice was easy and so was the fill in the blank section, but the essay question got him all tangled up, trying to keep his words straight. His stomach really hurt now, painful steady cramps that squeezed into his right side. It made it harder to focus, and he turned in his test at the end of the class with the upsetting suspicion that he could have done a lot better.

He dragged himself back to Lincoln House after his last class, his steps slow and his messenger bag pulling his shoulder down. It was a cold, gray, gloomy day, and he was freezing. But maybe now that his test was over and it was the weekend, he would start feeling better.

Chaos reigned in the seventh floor common room. Derek and Emily were squabbling, Penelope and JJ were shrieking about something on a TV show, James and David were flipping channels in search of something to watch. Spencer bit back a sigh and set down his messenger bag so he could unbutton his blazer.

“Hey, watch out!” Derek said, and suddenly white stars exploded in his vision as someone collided into him. He doubled over, clutching his side.

Someone caught him by the arm and kept him from sinking. “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Emily said, and he blinked rapidly in an effort to make the room stop spinning. She hoisted him up and he cried out at the splitting stitch in his side. “What’s going on, kid? Derek didn’t bump you that hard.”

“Nothing,” he wheezed. “Just…stomachache.” The room had gone deathly quiet and he hated it. Everyone was staring at him. Even Emily looked worried, and that made him feel even more uneasy.

“You’re sure it’s just a stomachache?” James asked. He frowned. “You’re holding onto your side.”

Spencer shrugged. “Yeah, it hurts,” he said, a little too sharply.

“Are you feeling okay?” James pressed. “Maybe you should go to the infirmary.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t need to,” he said. “I’m fine.” He hefted up his messenger bag. “I’m gonna go change.”

The others slowly went back to what they were doing, but James was frowning. “I’m going to go talk to Hotch, I’ll be right back,” he said. 

* * *

Alex hummed under her breath, already daydreaming about the books stashed in her bag. A major perk of being the school librarian was getting first dibs on anything new. “Penelope, the new Maggie Stiefvater came in,” she called as she climbed the stairs to the seventh floor common room.

“Ooh!” Penelope said, making grabby hands. “You’re the best. I’m so excited!”

“I get dibs next!” JJ said.

The kids piled over the couch and the floor watching a rerun of sitcom. She handed the book to Penelope and set her bag down. “How was your history test, Spence?” she asked.

He shrugged. He was curled up in the far end of the couch, dressed in a tee shirt and joggers, his thin arms folded protectively over his stomach. “It was okay, I guess,” he mumbled.

She bent over him and kissed his forehead, then frowned. “You feel warm,” she said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said, his mouth drawing down in a pout. 

James got up from the couch. “Hey, can we have a big kid meeting?” he said. “In Hotch’s room.”

“I guess,” Alex said, caught off guard. 

“For the purposes of this meeting, do I count as a big kid?” Emily asked.

“No, you can stay here,” James said.

“Oh, good. I didn’t want to go.”

Alex smoothed Spencer’s short hair; he didn’t respond, but he was definitely a little too warm. “Be good, you guys.”

James grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her into Hotch’s room; David closed the door behind them. Hotch pushed his chair back from his desk and took his headphones off. “Hey, you got an update?” he asked.

“Update on what?” Alex asked, confused. “What’s going on?”

James sat down on Hotch’s bed. “Something’s wrong with Spencer,” he said.

“Yeah, he’s been acting odd all week, and I think he has a fever,” she said.

“James thinks he has appendicitis,” David said.

Alex’s jaw dropped. “Oh, no. Really?”

“He’s got all the textbook signs,” James said. “He hasn’t been eating much this week, he says his stomach hurts. Derek bumped into him and he about screamed. He’s been favoring his right side. And if you say he’s running a fever…”

“What should we do? Take him to the infirmary?”

“He already said no to that, because of course he did,” David said.

“And if it’s appendicitis, we need to get him to a hospital sooner rather than later,” James said, jiggling his leg anxiously. “At best, we take him in, they check him out, they say it’s just a stomach ache. At worst, we keep him here, I’m right, his appendix bursts, and it’s at least a thirty minute drive to the hospital.”

“And I’ve already talked to Gideon about it,” Hotch said, waving his phone. “He said he trusts my judgement, and if we take him to the hospital to just make sure we bring Spencer’s file with his medical records and to keep him updated.”

Alex frowned. “He does remember that we’re all teenagers, right?” she said. Hotch shrugged.

“Okay, who’s going to take him?” David asked.

“I’ll drive,” James said immediately. “And I’m eighteen, I can sign off on things. Hotch, you should come too. And Alex.”

“I’ll stay here and watch the rest of the kids,” David said. “But the big question is…how are we going to convince him to get in the car.”

“I’ll throw him over my shoulder and carry him out kicking and screaming if I have to,” Hotch said.

“No, no, we have to make him think it’s his idea,” Alex said.

“Or you can just lie,” David suggested. “Did you guys promise to do something fun once he got that history test over with? Tell him you’re going to take him into town for ice cream or something.”

“We shouldn’t lie to him,” Alex said. 

“No…he has a point,” James said. “That might actually work.”

Alex fished her phone out of her pocket, sighing. “Okay, then, hold on,” she said. “I’m going to tell Derek to pack some things for Spencer. If he does end up needing surgery, we’ll have to be prepared.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” James said. 

Hotch closed up his textbooks and switched off his desk lamp. “All right, who can lie the best?” he said as he reached for his shoes.

“Probably me,” David said. “I’ll set up it. You guys…maintain it. Don’t let on until you’ve at least got him in the car. That way he can’t escape.”

“Oh, good point,” James said. He got up from Hotch’s bed. “All right. Are we ready to do this?”

Alex pocketed her phone. “Might as well,” she said. “United front, everybody. United front.”

The rest of the kids were still sprawled around the common room watching TV. She eyed the pile of books on the table- Derek had followed her instructions and emptied her tote bag so he could pack things without Spencer catching on.

“Hey, Spencer,” David said. “Since you did so well on your test, you want to go to town and get some ice cream?”

He shrugged. “No, not really,” he said.

Alex bit her lip. Spencer _had_ to be sick. He would live off sugar if they let him; she’d never seen him turn down dessert before.

“Does your stomach still hurt?” James asked. “Maybe we should take you to the infirmary.”

Spencer inched off the couch, bracing his palm against his right side. “No, no…I want ice cream,” he said. 

“Hey, what about me?” Emily objected. “I want ice cream too.” Hotch shot her a look that would dissolve steel. “Well…maybe not.”

“Okay, then,” James said. “Get your shoes and a jacket. It’s cold out.”

Spencer jammed his feet into his sneakers and tried to bend over to tie them. He couldn’t do it, and he left the laces untied as he reached for his jacket. She desperately wanted to fix it and tie them for him, but she didn’t want to draw too much attention.

Derek sidled up beside her and silently handed her her tote bag. “Thanks,” she whispered, and he nodded.

Hotch shrugged on his ever-present navy hoodie. “All right, you guys ready?” he asked.

JJ and Penelope looked at them, confused. “Let’s go,” James said, placing his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “See you guys later.”

It was a long walk from Lincoln House to James’s car. Hotch took the backseat next to Spencer; Alex sat in the passenger seat with her hands in her coat pockets. James fiddled with his bluetooth receiver for a moment and turned on music, something calm to play in the background, and pulled out of the parking lot.

The three of them kept up steady conversation about inconsequential things, but Spencer stayed unusually silent. Alex kept an eye on him in the rearview mirror. He curled up tight, burrowing into the hood of his jacket, his forehead pressed against the window.

James drove through town as a light rain started to fall. Spencer blinked and struggled to sit up. “Wait, where are we going?” he asked. Alex caught Hotch’s eye in the mirror. They stayed uncomfortably silent for a moment. No one wanted to say it.

“We think you need to get checked out at a hospital,” James said finally. 

“What?” Spencer said, his voice rising. “Why?”

James kept driving, raindrops catching in the headlights. “You might need your appendix out,” he said, keeping his voice calm and even. “You have a lot of the hallmark symptoms, and we would rather have someone take a look at you and clear you to go back home than risk your appendix bursting.”

Spencer’s mouth dropped open. “You lied to me!” he accused. 

“You keep insisting you’re fine, and you wouldn’t go to the infirmary at school,” Hotch said. “Would you have listened and gone with us if we tried to talk to you about it?”

“Yes!” he said. He hesitated. “Well…maybe not. But I’m okay, and you shouldn’t have lied to me!”

Alex turned around in her seat. “I’m sorry we lied,” she said. “But let’s get you looked at, and once they tell you’re fine we’ll get ice cream for real, and then go home.”

“But-” James started to say, and she shot him a look. “Yeah. Exactly that.”

Spencer slunk back, the seatbelt sliding over his neck. Alex bit back a sigh. She hoped they’d just send him home. But she had a sneaking suspicion that James was right. 

They were going to be in for a rough night, she could just tell.

James parked in the emergency room lot; she got out of the car, shouldering her bag, and winced against the light cold rain biting at her face. “Spencer, get out of the car,” Hotch said.

“No.”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. “Spencer Reid, get out of the car _now_.”

“I’m not getting out of the car. You guys lied to me.”

“Spencer Walter Tristan Reid. Get out of the car, I swear to God, or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you myself.”

“You wouldn’t.” Hotch strode towards Spencer’s side of the car. “Okay! Okay, I’ll get out of the car.”

Spencer scrambled to get out of the car, but he moved a little too fast, a little too sharply, and he doubled over, his hand still clinging to the door handle. Hotch crouched down beside him. “Do you need a second?” he asked gently. Spencer nodded, his teeth gritted.

His shoelaces were still untied, drabbling in a puddle, and Hotch tied them silently. He stood up and placed his hand on Spencer’s narrow shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, and after a moment Spencer obeyed.

He was moving slowly and stiffly now, and Hotch kept his strides short and slow for him to keep up as they crossed the parking lot. It was a little warmer in the emergency room, but not by much. At least they were out of the rain.

James touched Alex’s arm lightly. “Hotch and I will get him checked in, can you sit with him?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” she said. 

She guided him over to a chair. “I’m fine,” he told her. “My stomach just hurts a little.”

“I know,” she said, taking the seat next to him and dropping her bag on the floor. He curled up away from her, tucking his feet under himself and making himself small. She bit back a sigh. At least it didn’t seem too busy in the emergency room. Maybe they wouldn’t have to wait too long.

The boys joined them after a while; Hotch stretched out his long legs and bit back a yawn. “He’s checked in, we’re just waiting for them to call him into triage,” James said. “How’s he doing?”

“He might’ve fallen asleep,” Alex said.

“I’m awake,” Spencer mumbled into his crossed arms. “And I’m still mad at you guys.”

Alex rubbed his back lightly. “That’s fair,” she said. “Well, hopefully they’ll bring you back soon, and then we’ll head home.”

“You promised me ice cream.”

“That’s right, ice cream and then home,” she said. She caught James’s eye and shrugged.

She kept rubbing light circles into Spencer’s back. Most people assumed Spencer didn’t like to be touched- and that was true with strangers, but once he’d warmed up to their little family he seemed to welcome affectionate gestures. He seemed to relax a little bit as she kept up the gentle patterns.

“Spencer Reid?”

Spencer unfolded himself stiffly from the chair. The white light of the emergency room made the dark circles under his eyes seem darker. “You want all of us to go back with you?” Alex asked. He nodded, reaching nervously for her hand. 

The nurse brought them back to a small triage room and closed the curtain. “Up here, please,” she said, indicating the exam table. Spencer balked. 

“Take off your jacket,” Hotch said. He obeyed; James took the jacket and Hotch picked Spencer up and sat him on the table.

The nurse checked Spencer’s blood pressure and pulse, then took his temperature. “A hundred and two,” she reported. “That’s a littler higher than we’d like. What’s been going on?”

“Mild abdominal pains,” Spencer said, his eyes closed. “They were worried. Can I go home now?”

“How mild are we talking?” the nurse asked. “Scale of one to ten.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment. “Seven, maybe?” 

“For Spencer, that’s like…an eleven,” Hotch said. 

“He hasn’t been eating much, and he’s been favoring his right side,” James added.

The nurse scanned Spencer’s file. “Ah, that does sound a bit like appendicitis,” she said. “Let’s take a look, okay, sweetie?”

Spencer tried to twist away as the nurse lifted the hem of his shirt. His belly was swollen, and when the nurse probed his right side lightly he cried out, all the color draining from his face. 

“Yeah, that sure seems like appendicitis,” the nurse said, seemingly unfazed. “All right, we’ll do an ultrasound to confirm. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

Spencer’s chest heaved. “Can we go home now?” he begged. His pale face had taken on a greenish tinge. “Please, I don’t want to be here.”

“No, we have to stay,” Alex said. She got up and took his hand in both of hers. “They’re going to double check and see if it’s your appendix. If we find out it isn’t, we’ll take your home.”

“It’s definitely his appendix,” Hotch mumbled under his breath.

“Aaron,” she hissed. He rolled his eyes.

Spencer struggled to sit up, yanking his hand out of her grip. “I don’t want to be here,” he said desperately. “Please, just take me home. I hate hospitals. I-”

“Just calm down and let them check you out, okay?” Hotch said, a little too harshly.

“I don’t think I need to be checked out,” he shot back.

The nurse wheeled in a cart with the ultrasound machine and started setting it up. “Spencer, lie down,” Alex said.

“No,” he said petulantly. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Jesus, Spencer, cut it out,” Hotch snapped. “You’re acting like a child.”

“I am a child!” 

“So be quiet and fucking listen to the grownups! We’re trying to help you!”

“You’re not a grownup, you’re sixteen!”

“Both of you, stop it,” Alex interrupted sharply. A fever flush was rising high on Spencer’s cheeks and his eyes were glassy, threatening to spill over; Hotch looked like thunder, his eyebrows knitting together and his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

The nurse seemed unbothered by their argument. “Okay, sweetie, lie down,” she said. Spencer obeyed, but he flinched when she tugged his shirt up around his ribcage and tried to squirm away from her cold clinical touch. “This’ll be a little cold.”

Spencer screwed up his face. Alex didn’t know if he was about to scream or cry or throw a temper tantrum. Honestly, maybe all three. 

“I wonder how the ultrasound was developed,” she said quickly. 

The nurse squirted the cold gel on Spencer’s stomach; he jumped, but he turned towards Alex, distracted. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Oh, just wondering who discovered it, and how they started using it in hospital settings,” she said.

The nurse moved the wand over Spencer’s belly; James stepped closer to the screen to get a better look. “Well, Pierre Curie discovered piezoelectricity in 1880,” Spencer said. “But the first echo imaging device wasn’t developed until 1940.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she said, playing dumb. “So then they started using them for medical purposes?”

“No, it was meant to find flaws in metal casings,” he said. “It wasn’t used on people until 1941.”

She kept asking questions, just enough to keep him talking, and he started to calm down as he focused on answering her questions. She saw Hotch sigh in relief. But she also saw James frowning at the ultrasound screen, and that couldn’t be good.

The nurse wiped the gel off Spencer’s stomach. “All right, so bad news, good news,” she said. “Bad news, we’ve got to get that appendix out, and fast. Good news, we caught it before it burst.” She started packing things up. “We’ll get you moved to pre-op as fast as we can, okay?”

She left, and all the color drained from Spencer’s face. “I want to go home,” he whispered, but all the fight had gone out of him. 

“We know, Spence, but they need to take your appendix out,” James said. “There’s no way around it.”

“Yes, there is!” Spencer said desperately. “Antibiotics, they can reverse it with antibiotics…”

James shook his head. “That’s in mild cases, and it’s rarely successful,” he said gently. “Spencer, I was watching your ultrasound. You’re not okay. You’ve got to have surgery.”

Spencer’s face crumpled. “I don’t want to,” he said, a sob catching in his throat. “Please don’t make me, please don’t make me, I hate it here, I want to leave.”

He buried his face in his hands. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Alex said, bending over him and brushing his hair back from his forehead. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

He kept his face hidden from her, but his shoulders hitched. “They used to take me to the hospital…when my mom was sick,” he whispered. “When she got really bad. And…and they’d leave me in the waiting room, and…and I’d be there for hours, by myself…and…”

“That’s not going to happen,” Hotch said firmly. “I promise. There’s no way we would just leave you.”

A tear dripped down Spencer’s cheek. Alex wiped it away with her thumb. “An appendectomy is a really easy procedure,” James said gently. He squeezed Spencer’s knee. “You’ll be in and out in no time. Maybe a day or two in the hospital to recover, and then we’ll take you home so you can rest.” He smiled. “And then we’ll get you that ice cream we tricked you with. As much ice cream as you want.”

Spencer’s chest heaved as Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead. “You promise?” he said.

“Absolutely,” James said. 

The nurse drew back the curtain. “All right, sweetie, we’re going to move you to pre-op and the doctor’s going to come talk to you about what’s going to happen,” she said briskly. “I’ve got a wheelchair for you, you probably shouldn’t walk.”

Spencer’s mouth tightened. “It’s fine, I’ll carry him,” Hotch said. “Is that okay, kid?” He nodded, and Hotch scooped him up carefully in his arms. Spencer’s head dropped against his shoulder. 

The pediatric wing was horrifically cheerful, the halls painted a painful yellow and decorated with a mural of slightly cock-eyed off-brand cartoon characters. It made her skin crawl to see them staring. 

“So you’ll want to get him changed, and we’ll get an IV started for him,” the nurse said. “The doctor will be in soon to talk to you. But I’ll give y’all a second.” 

She closed the door. Alex sighed as she set down her bag and took off her coat. “Wow, this place really does suck,” she said, tugging at her dress.

Hotch set Spencer down gently on the floor; he swayed drunkenly and Hotch kept his hands on his shoulders. “How’re you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t feel good,” he said in a small voice. “I really don’t feel good.”

His face had gone stark white; James quietly handed Hotch the small trash can from the corner just before Spencer doubled over and threw up. Alex winced, but Hotch didn’t seem fazed at all.

He didn’t have much in his system to bring up, but he started to cry, faint and panicky. “Alex, can you take him?” James said. “We’ll take care of everything else.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she said. She took Spencer’s hand and squeezed gently before leading him over to the small bathroom. 

He was shaking, his teeth beginning to chatter. “I don’t feel good,” he sobbed. “Alex, I don’t feel good.”

“I know, I know,” she soothed. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you can lie down, okay?”

She folded up a paper towel and ran it under cold water, then wiped gently at his face. His fever radiated heat against her hand. She helped him change, setting his clothes aside and dressing him in a hospital johnny that buttoned at the shoulders. He didn’t put up a fight, but he didn’t have the energy to do it himself, so she did it for him.

“How’s that?” she asked. “Better?” He nodded, his chin trembling. “Let’s get you to bed, then.”

James and Hotch were talking to a doctor in low conspiratorial tones in the corner. Alex picked Spencer up and set him on the bed. Usually he slept curled up on his side or his stomach, but he just sank back limply, still shivering.

Alex dug through her bag and shook out a soft blanket- it was Derek’s, but it was Spencer’s favorite to steal during movie nights. She tucked it around him snugly and he hugged it to his chest. 

A nurse in purple scrubs was prepping an IV. “Hi, sweetie,” she said. “We’re going to get your IV started, and once it’s going and the doctor has the chance to talk to you, we’ll start the anesthesia. Which arm?”

“Right,” he said quietly.

Alex sat down next to him; he cuddled up to her, his cheek against her collarbone, as the nurse set the IV in his arm and taped it in place. He didn’t even flinch, and she kissed the top of his head. 

“Hey, kid,” Hotch said. “How’re you holding up?”

“I don’t feel good,” he said, and Hotch rubbed his arm lightly.

“The doctor’s going to talk you through what’s going to happen,” James said. “You can ask as many questions as you want.”

The doctor was kind and patient, but Spencer didn’t ask any questions, and that worried her. Spencer was always a never-ending fount of questions and facts and statistics; it wouldn’t have surprised her if he had talked through the surgery himself. His silence scared her. But she wasn’t about to say that.

“You’re sure you don’t have any questions?” Hotch asked. Spencer shook his head. 

“Okay, sugar, we’re going to start the anesthesia,” the nurse said. 

Spencer shivered. “You’ll stay?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“We’ll be right here,” Hotch promised. “And we’ll be there when you wake up.” 

The nurse injected something into the IV port. Before long Spencer was fighting to stay awake, his lashes fluttering and twitching, but soon he was limp in Alex’s arms, fast asleep.

“All right, we’ll take it from here. We’ll keep you updated.”

They were ushered out in short order and escorted to a small waiting room; Alex pressed one last kiss to Spencer’s cheek and gathered up his blanket. Hotch sank down in a chair and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment. “He’s just so damn small,” he said at last, his voice muffled in his palms.

She sighed and sat down next to him. “I know,” she said. She handed him the blanket and Hotch sat up a little, his shoulders still hunched, and folded it around his arms. His eyes were suspiciously red-rimmed.

“Who wants to call David with an update?” James asked.

Alex rubbed her forehead. “Oh, god, we have to tell the rest of them,” she said. She rested her hand on Hotch’s back. “Do you mind doing it?”

“Yeah, no worries,” James said, already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“How bad is this, really?” Hotch asked. “How much should we worry?”

“He’s going to be okay,” James said. “It’s a best case scenario. We caught it fast enough, he’s in good hands, the surgery will only last about an hour.”

It was the longest hour she had ever experienced. Even with James’s reassurance, none of them could sit still and focus on anything; the TV played for no one and the magazines stayed untouched. Hotch held Spencer’s blanket in silence.

It was almost an hour and a half before anyone came back for them. Alex’s heart jumped to her throat. “He’s doing great,” the doctor said, smiling warmly. “They’re moving him to post-op so he can rest, he should be waking up soon.”

“Can we see him?” Hotch demanded.

“Absolutely. It’s common for children to be a little fussy and confused when they’re coming out of anesthesia, sometimes nauseated, so give him some time. But yes, you can go see him.”

Hotch was right. Spencer was just too damn small. And he was too quiet and still; she was used to him fidgeting and chattering all the time. He was still pale, his arms stiff by his sides, the IV still taped to his arm and a pulse monitor attached to his finger.

Alex sat down on the edge of the bed and took his limp little hand in hers. Hotch unfolded the blanket and draped it over him. “How much longer till he wakes up?” he asked.

“Not sure,” James said, pulling up a chair. “It could be a few minutes, or another hour or two.”

Luckily, it was only about half an hour before his fingers began to twitch in her grip. Before long he started to rouse, his lashes brushing against his cheeks, and when he opened his hazel eyes they were still cloudy.

“Hi, Spence, welcome back,” Hotch said. 

He scrunched up his face, confused and distressed, and he started to cry. “Hey, you’re okay,” Alex soothed, holding his hand against her heart. “You’re okay, baby. You did so good.” He mumbled something indistinct that sounded faintly like her name and she smiled at him. 

Spencer looked around unsteadily. “Hotch?” he said, his voice thick.

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m here too,” Hotch reassured him, leaning over him to stroke his hair back from his forehead. “James is too. We’re all here, we didn’t leave you.” 

Spencer rubbed his eyes sleepily. “Where’s…” he started to say, but his voice trailed off.

“Where’s what?” James asked.

“Where’s…my ice cream?” he mumbled. “Did I miss it?”

Hotch laughed. “No, you didn’t miss it,” he said. “Ice cream’s for later, though. You just rest for now.”

That seemed to be enough to assure Spencer and he burrowed under the blankets. Alex kept his hand in hers, rubbing her thumbs in small circles, and he sighed in heavy, contented relief.


	12. post appendicitis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "Imagine in the boarding school AU Reid gets hurt or sick and takes pain medicine that makes him all loopy and the whole team looks after him."

“Okay, guys, I know you’re really excited to see Spencer, but you have to be gentle with him,” Hotch warned, blocking the door.

“We will, we will!” Penelope said.

“No, I mean it,” he said. “He’s got stitches and he’s drugged up to his eyeballs. No yelling, no jostling him, no getting him riled up. Understand?”

“Of course we understand,” JJ said. “Can we see him?”

Hotch hesitated, drumming his fingers on his crossed arms. “It’s my room too, you have to let me in anyway,” Derek pointed out.

He sighed. “Yes, but I reserve the right to kick you guys out,” he said. He opened the door and let the three of them inside. “Hey, Spencer. You’ve got some visitors.”

Spencer was tucked into bed and propped up with his pillow and one of Hotch’s. “Hi,” he said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” Penelope said. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “I have stitches,” he said. “Wanna see?”

“No, no, no, don’t mess with your stitches,” Hotch said. 

Spencer tried to sit up, tugging on the hem of his tee shirt. “They’re on my tummy…”

“Nope, nope, they don’t want to see,” Hotch said, catching Spencer’s wrist gently. “Lie down.”

“Oh, man, you really are on the good stuff,” Derek laughed. He sat down on the edge of his bed. Hotch took a step back, watching them like a hawk. “Are you feeling better, kid?”

Spencer scrunched up his face. “I don’t know,” he said. 

“You gave us a pretty bad scare,” JJ said.

She wasn’t wrong about that. Somehow none of them had realized that Spencer was sick until it was too late, and he was being rushed to the hospital with acute appendicitis. They’d been reassured over and over again that he was going to be just fine, but now that he’d been moved out of the hospital and back to the dorms, Hotch couldn’t help but feel like he needed to keep a close eye on him.

“How long do you get out of classes?” Derek asked.

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, scrunched his face in confusion, and looked up at Hotch. “At least a week, maybe two,” Hotch answered for him. “After he gets his stitches out.”

Spencer brightened. “Yeah, I got stitches!” he said, pulling on his shirt again. “Wanna see?”

“No, no, that’s okay,” JJ said.

Derek squeezed Spencer’s ankle. “What do you want to do, kid?” he said. “I bet you’re bored already. Want to play video games?”

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” JJ said. “Spencer doesn’t play video games when he’s feeling well.” She shot him a side-eye glance. “I think you just want to play Madden.” Derek shrugged.

“How about a movie?” Penelope suggested. “Oh! Derek, can you grab my laptop from my desk? I have so many options.”

“What? You live on the second floor and we’re on seventh!” Derek complained.

“Please?” Penelope said. “Oh, and can you can get some of the pillows off my bed too? I think Spencer could use some of them.”

“Not the ones with the sequins, though, he won’t like them,” JJ said.

“Fine,” Derek huffed. “But this is the only trip I’m taking, okay?”

JJ sat down next to Spencer. “Are you hurting at all?” she asked, stroking his hair off his forehead.

“I don’t know, really,” he said. He leaned into her gentle touch, a dopey smile on his face. “My tummy feels weird.”

“I remember getting my tonsils out, I was loopy for days,” Penelope said. 

“Yeah, he’s on the highest level of painkillers they can give a ten-year-old,” Hotch said dryly as he sat down at Spencer’s desk.

“My legs feel funny,” Spencer announced. 

Penelope patted his knee. “You’ll feel better soon,” she reassured him. 

Derek stomped in, laden down with pillows and Penelope’s laptop under his arm. “All right, I hope I got everything, because I’m not making that hike again,” he huffed.

Penelope caught the laptop. “Thank you, chocolate thunder,” she said sweetly.

JJ gathered up the pillows- all three of them garishly colored and incredibly fluffy- and tucked them around Spencer until he was propped up in a little nest. “There,” she said. “Are you comfortable?”

He tentatively patted the pillow closest to him. “I’m sinking,” he said. 

JJ laughed. “You’re not, you’re fine,” she said. She climbed up on the bed and settled down behind him. “Here, I’ll keep you from sinking. Better?”

“Better,” he echoed, nestling in the pillows and resting his head on her lap.

Penelope took a step back from the TV. “All right, I got it hooked up,” she said, clearly pleased with herself. “Spencer, my angel, I have just about every movie and TV show you can think of. What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He sank farther back into the pillows and giggled a little bit. 

Derek laughed and sat down at the foot of the bed. “Just pick something, I don’t think he can pick anything on his own,” he said.

“Okay, okay, fine,” Penelope said. She pulled up a movie on her laptop and scrambled to join the other kids. “I think you’ll like this one.”

“Don’t smother him,” Hotch warned.

“We’re not, we’re not!”

Hotch hauled his backpack up and dug his math textbook out. “Looks like you’re smothering him,” he mumbled under his breath.

But Spencer seemed calm, watching the movie with his eyes half-lidded as JJ stroked his hair, and he reluctantly turned his attention to his trig homework. As long as the kid was okay, and the others were watching him, he could probably get some work done.

“Spencer, are you hungry?” Penelope asked. He shook his head sleepily. “Are you sure? Derek can go get you something.”

“Why does it have to be me?” Derek complained.

“Oh, stop whining, Mister Big Strong Football Player.”

“Guys,” Hotch warned.

“All right, all right, fine,” Penelope said, settling back down.

Things were relatively quiet and peaceful after that; Spencer fell asleep despite the other three talking and jostling him. Hotch managed to get most of his trig homework done before the movie was over. And good thing, too, because the peace didn’t last.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Emily said cheerfully. 

Hotch put his pencil down. “Why do they always do this?” he mumbled.

Spencer sat up and yawned, then immediately winced. “Did I sleep?” he said, pressing his hand against his stomach.

“You were asleep,” JJ said, shooting a pointed look at Emily.

Emily stuck out her lower lip in a fake pout. “Sorry,” she said. She joined the other kids on the bed. “I heard they gave you the good stuff, squirt. What’s he been doing? Have I missed anything hilarious?”

“No, he’s been sleeping,” Hotch said flatly. 

“And trying to show everyone his stitches,” Derek added.

Spencer scrunched up his face. “I have stitches?”

“Oh, well, maybe he does something interesting soon,” Emily said. She ruffled his short hair, leaving it a hopeless mess. Spencer shivered. “Hey, what was that for? What’s wrong?”

“‘m cold,” he said. 

“I can fix that,” JJ said. She carefully climbed off the bed and took Spencer’s blanket. He whined, trying to grab it back.

“What are you doing?” Penelope asked.

“Just trust me,” she said. She turned to Emily and held out her hand. “I need a quarter.”

“Why do you think I have money on me?” Emily said. JJ raised an eyebrow and she sighed. “All right, fine.” JJ took the quarter, gathered up the blanket, and left the room.

“Okay, everybody off the bed, there’s too many of you,” Hotch said. “No, Spencer, stay where you are, you get to stay in the bed.” Spencer blinked in confusion; Hotch picked him up carefully and placed him back in the bed, moving around Penelope’s pillow collection to make room for him. “Stay there.”

JJ walked back in with the blanket. “Here you go,” she said, draping it over Spencer. “I ran it through the dryer for a little bit. Is that better?”

“Yeah!” he said. JJ smoothed out the blanket and he cuddled up in the warmth. “Yeah, that’s better, I think. I’m warm now.” He frowned. “But my stomach feels funny.”

“That’s why you need to stop moving, pretty boy,” Derek said. “You need anything?”

Spencer leaned back against the pillows, drawing the blanket up to his chin. “Huh-uh,” he said. “I’m okay.”

Hotch leaned over him and checked his forehead. “You’re sure you okay?” he said. “If you’re running a fever we have to take you back to the hospital.”

“Noooo,” Spencer protested, trying to shake off his hand. “I’m okay, I promise, I promise. I don’t wanna go back.”

Hotch tucked him in. “Then stay still,” he said.

“You’re no fun, Hotch,” Emily said. 

“I’m trying to be _responsible_ ,” he said. His phone beeped and he checked the screen. “And it’s time for your medicine, Spencer.”

Emily clapped her hands. “Ooh, I’m hoping for some quality ‘David After Dentist’ content,” she said.

Hotch rolled his eyes; he picked up Spencer’s hand and placed a pill in his palm. “There you go,” he said, handing him a water bottle. “Drink slow.”

Penelope took the water bottle when he was done. “Do you want to watch something different?” she asked. 

Emily pulled a deck of cards out of her jacket pocket. “Let’s play a game,” she said. 

“I don’t know-”

Emily was already dealing them out. “Aces are high, no wilds,” she said. She pulled a massive bag of M&Ms out of her other pocket. “We’ll all start with twenty.”

“Guys-”

JJ peeked at her cards. “I raise,” she said. Hotch rolled his eyes and went back to his homework. If they wanted to play, they could play. 

“Spencer, no, you have to hold your cards up, we’re not supposed to see them,” Penelope whispered.

“They’re too heavy,” he whined. He spread them out over the blanket. “They’re so heavy, I don’t wanna hold ‘em.”

Emily laughed. “Ah, yes, this is what I was hoping for,” she said, pulling out her phone.

“Hey! Spencer, you can’t eat my M&Ms,” Derek protested, trying to block the M&M pile away from him.

Spencer tried to reach for them anyway. “Where are the blue ones?” he asked. “The blue ones taste better.”

“They taste the same,” JJ said.

Penelope elbowed her. “No, he’s got a point,” she said.

Spencer popped a handful in his mouth. “I like the blue ones, but the red ones are…are too red,” he said. “They’re just too red.”

“Hey, Spencer,” Emily said, holding her phone closer to film him and biting back a giggle. “How do you feel about the yellow ones?”

“They suck,” he said solemnly, and the other kids burst out laughing. “What? The yellow ones suck. They do.”

Hotch put down his pencil and turned around in his chair, laughing. “The meds are hitting pretty hard, aren’t they, buddy?” he said.

Spencer frowned. “Hotch,” he said. “I can’t…I can’t find my hands.”

Derek howled. “They’re still attached, don’t worry,” Emily said. “They’re there.”

“Hotch?” Spencer said, a little louder.

Hotch rolled the desk chair closer and squeezed his hand. “Right there, buddy, I promise,” he said. “Both hands, all ten fingers.”

He looked up, startled. “Ten?” he repeated. “Is that right?” He looked down at his hands. “That can’t…can’t be right…”

Penelope was almost crying. “I hope it wears off before he has to go to class,” JJ laughed.

“Class?” Spencer repeated. He scrambled off the bed. “I forgot!”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Hotch said. “Stop that, you’re going to pop your stitches.”

Spencer was clumsily digging through his messenger bag. “I didn’t do my homework!” he said. “I forgot!”

Emily set down her phone. “Babe, it’s okay, you’re not supposed to be in class,” she said. 

“I’m gonna be late!” he said desperately, and he tried to bolt for the door.

Luckily, the three oldest kids were in the hallway, just about to knock. Spencer collided with James and nearly fell back on the floor; James caught him by the arms. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be up.”

Spencer burst into tears. The younger kids all immediately looked to Hotch; he swallowed hard. He wasn’t good with crying, no matter who it was. Not even himself. (Especially himself.)

“Hey, _caro_ , none of that,” David said. “Don’t cry.”

Spencer fell against him, pressing his face into his ribs. “I’m…gonna…be…late…and…I…didn’t…do…my…homework,” he sobbed. 

David smoothed Spencer’s hair and looked up at Hotch. “Ah, the pain meds are getting to him, aren’t they?” he said.

“Hit him like a semitruck,” Hotch said.

Alex knelt down next to him. “Spencer, you’re not late, and you’re not in trouble,” she reassured him as he sobbed into David’s stomach. “All you need to worry about is getting better.”

He lifted his head. “I’m not late?” he said.

“Not at all,” she said. “Do you want to go back to bed now?” He nodded.

Emily shooed the younger kids off the bed. “All right, all right, scatter,” she said. “Make room.”

James picked Spencer up and set him down on his bed. “You’ve got to be careful with your stitches,” he said gently. 

Spencer sniffled hard and JJ handed him a tissue. “I forgot,” he said in a small voice.

“Hotch, how about you stay with him, and James and I will herd the rest of these youths out of here,” Alex said.

“We want to stay with him!” Penelope protested.

“He needs to rest, and I think you guys are getting him worked up,” Hotch said.

David scooped up the scattered playing cards and popped a handful of M&Ms in his mouth. “Yeah, let’s give him a little space,” he said. “Let’s go get dinner.” He brightened. “Or…let’s go to town and get ingredients, and we can make dinner ourselves. I’m sure Hotch won’t mind if we take over the Lincoln House kitchen.”

“Just clean up after yourselves,” Hotch said. “But yeah, go have fun.”

Alex tucked Spencer snugly into bed and kissed his cheek; he was already beginning to doze off. “Text us if you need anything, Hotch,” she said. 

“Will do,” he said. Thank you, he mouthed silently.

Alex grinned. “All right, who’s riding with James, and who’s riding with Rossi?” she asked.

“Shotgun!” Emily and Derek shouted at once. They paused, then glared at each other. “Shotgun with Rossi!”

“Hey!”

“I said it first!”

James and Alex herded the kids out of the room and closed the door. Hotch sighed deeply. “Peace and quiet,” he said. “Nice, huh?”

“You promise I’m not late for class?” Spencer said sleepily, hugging the blanket to his chest. 

“Absolutely,” Hotch said. “And your hands are still attached too.” 

Spencer nodded and rubbed his eyes. “You’re going to stay with me though, right?” he said. “Right here?”

“Uh-huh,” Hotch said. He closed his math homework, turned down the volume on the TV, and moved the desk chair next to Spencer. “How’s that?”

Spencer smiled at him, hazy and sleepy, and before long he dozed off, his breathing slow and steady. Hotch stayed beside him, arms folded over his chest, watching TV but checking every so often to make sure he was still safe.


	13. study group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by at_the_chamber_door: "I've got a boarding alternate universe headcanon- study groups! Maybe if everyone's loaded with work, projects, or upcoming tests, they'll get together at night (preferably at a round table, ha) and work. Well, work-ish. The only people actually working the entire time are Hotch, Alex, and JJ. Spencer tries, but he finishes early and Morgan uses him to get stuff. Garcia gets distracted and makes paper fortune tellers. Meanwhile, Rossi sits on the side, copying off everyone's work and eating the snacks. The night usually ends with Spencer falling asleep and the team getting kicked out after Emily gets everyone involved in some scheme."

JJ rifled through her piles of papers, frowning. Her biology info packet was in there somewhere, she just knew it. But maybe she could wait and work on biology later, maybe she should work on history first.

“Okay, you guys, I’m starting to freak out,” Penelope said, knocking over her stack of rainbow-colored gel pens. “How bad are midterms? Like…really. What should I expect?”

“They’re not bad, as long as you study,” Hotch said absently.

Penelope dropped the gel pens she’d started to pick up. “I’ve forgotten how to study!” she shrieked. “Oh my god! Everything in my brain has been erased!”

Spencer perked up. “Ooh! It could be lacunar amnesia!” he said. “That’s when-”

“Spencer, no,” Hotch sighed. 

“Take a breath, baby girl,” Derek said, scooping up the pens and handing them back. “You’re smart, you’ll remember stuff.”

She set the pens back into rainbow order. “You say that now,” she said. “What if I do forget? Or I forget which exam is at which time? Oh, god, what if I sleep through them!”

“You’re not going to sleep through them,” JJ reassured her. “I’ll wake you up.”

She turned back to her own piles of notes and worksheets. This was the sixth time that Penelope had freaked out in the last two hours, and doubtless she’d freak out a few more times until midterms were over. At least since they were studying together, other people could chime in and help calm her down.

They’d agree collectively to spend Sunday studying together for their respective tests. As a group they had overtaken the seventh floor common room, lounging around in their pajamas, piling up textbooks and coffee cups and snacks. Hotch, Alex, and Spencer sat at the round table while Dave sat between James and Emily on the couch; Penelope and Derek sprawled on the rug in front of the silent television. JJ had claimed a corner of the room for herself, spreading out her papers in small piles.

James pulled his binder close to his chest and frowned. “Dave, are you copying off me?” he asked.

“No, never,” Dave said. He ate another handful of pretzels. “Absolutely not. I’m copying off Emily.”

James squinted at Dave’s mostly-empty notebook page. “You _are_ copying off me!” he accused. “Do your own work, Rossi, Jesus.”

“Okay, then I _will_ copy off Emily,” Dave said. “And she won’t know because she’s listening to music.”

“Fuck off,” Emily said absently, her airpods still tucked in her ears.

“She’s not even in any of your classes,” James pointed out.

Dave shrugged. “Whatever, it’s fine,” he said. “I’ll get into college either way.”

Penelope dropped her sticker-covered composition book. “Oh, god! What if I don’t get into college?” she said.

“You’ll get into college, Pen,” Alex said. “Don’t look so far ahead. Focus on this week’s tests.”

Penelope huffed in frustration. “JJ, do you have your notes from biology class?” she asked.

“Uh…yeah, somewhere,” she said. She rummaged through a stack. “Hold on…”

“JJ, can you find anything in there?” James asked. “It looks like everything you own exploded.”

“I have a _system_ ,” she explained.

“You can borrow my notes!” Spencer said. He leaned forward to stretch across the table; Alex caught him before he could tip out of his chair. “Here! Do you have any questions?”

Penelope frowned. “That’s it?” she said. “A single piece of paper? And…your handwriting is completely illegible.”

He shrugged. “It makes sense to me,” he said.

“Spencer, sit down before you fall on your face,” Hotch said. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

Dave threw a pretzel at Emily. “Hey! She’s not studying!” he said. “Repeat, Emily Prentiss is _not_ studying!”

“Narc,” she shot back, scooping pretzels off the couch and throwing them back at his face.

“Everyone!” Dave said, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Emily Prentiss is online shopping! Shopping for-” He leaned over her shoulders. “She’s bidding on a seventy-five dollar tee shirt on eBay.”

Emily slammed the lid of her macbook shut. “That tour got canceled after three stops, it’s a collector’s item!” she said.

“Emily, didn’t your mom say that she was going to cancel your credit card if you got below a C on your history midterm?” Alex asked, tapping her pen against her chin.

“Just the Amex,” Emily shrugged. “Also, that pen isn’t capped.”

“Oh! Shit.”

Spencer frowned. “Can I borrow somebody’s computer really fast?” he asked. “I don’t think this source is correct.”

“Here, munchkin,” Emily said, holding out her macbook. “Just for Miller’s satisfaction, I’ll study for my history test. You can borrow it for now.”

Hotch caught the laptop from Spencer’s small hands and set it down on the table. Spencer squinted at the keyboard. “Where’s the control key?” he asked.

“It’s a macbook, squirt, it’s a command key.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “God, see, this is why I stick to my chromebook,” she said. “Everything makes sense.”

“Your chromebook is the size of a novel.”

“I know, it’s easy to carry.”

Spencer scrunched up his face, pecking at the keyboard letter by letter with his index fingers. “Can somebody type this for me?” he asked. Hotch silently pulled the laptop closer and typed as Spencer spelled out his question.

With Emily distracted by her argument, JJ stole her pillow from the couch and propped it up with her piles of papers, getting comfortable. She bit back a yawn. Studying was exhausting work. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Spencer announced. “You can have your computer back, Emily.”

“Thank god, there’s only ten minutes left in this auction and I _need_ this shirt,” she said. Alex rolled her eyes and put on her headphones. 

Derek pushed himself off the floor. “Pretty boy, if you’re taking a break-”

“Oh, it’s not a break, I’ve memorized everything.”

“Show off,” Dave grinned.

“Okay, since you’ve memorized everything, you wanna go down to the vending machine in the lobby and get more drinks?” Derek continued. Spencer frowned. “You can pick out something for yourself.”

“Deal!” Spencer said. Derek handed him a handful of crumpled dollar bills.

“Hold on, _caro_ ,” Dave said. He dug out his wallet and handed him several more dollars. “Get enough for everybody.”

“Thanks!” Spencer said, and he took off, his little socked feet thumping down the stairs.

“Walk, please, before you faceplant again!” Hotch called. The footsteps faded, but did not slow down. Hotch sighed.

“Derek,” Penelope said. “Derek. Derek Morgan. Chocolate thunder. Pay attention to me.”

“What?” 

She thrust a folded paper fortune teller in his face. “Pick one!” she said.

“Pick one what?”

“You have four options, pick one!”

JJ raised an eyebrow. “You’re making cootie catchers?” she said. “I thought you were worried about getting into college.”

“First of all, where I come from, we call them fortune tellers,” Penelope said. “Second of all, I’ve decided I’m not going to college, I will never be able to pass these tests, so I will never get a college degree, so I will just play my ukulele on street corners for the rest of my life.”

“You can always get a college degree _and_ play your ukulele on street corners,” Dave pointed out.

“Derek, please, pick one,” Penelope begged.

He looked at the phrases. “Uh…koala bear, I guess,” he said.

“Now pick a number.”

“Um…three.”

Penelope unfolded the fortune. “You will fail your midterms, flunk out of school, and play the dulcimer in Penelope Garcia’s busking band,” she read. “Oh, that’ll work out nicely.” Derek shook his head. 

Spencer ran up the stairs, arms laden down with soda cans. “I’m back!” he said. He dumped them on the floor. “Maybe don’t open them right this second. The carbonation-”

“We’re cramming enough knowledge in our heads today, we don’t need an extra lesson,” Emily said, scowling at her history textbook.

Spencer’s lower lip dropped in a pout. “Don’t make that face,” Hotch warned. “We’ve talked about how sometimes it’s a bad time for facts.”

“I’m not pouting. And there’s never a bad time for facts.”

“Yes, there is,” Derek said. “Like now, when we’re all trying to study.”

“Except me, I’m going to join the circus,” Penelope informed them.

“I’m trying to study too, you guys,” JJ called from her fortress of papers and books.

James rubbed his temples. “Guys…please…” Dave threw a pretzel at him. “ _Goddammit_ , David.”

“I was just trying to explain that the carbonation-”

“No!” Emily said, tossing a pillow at Spencer. It bopped him in the face and knocked him backwards.

“Jesus, Emily!” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch buried his face in his hands. “For the love of god, you guys, _stop_.” he said.

“I’m sorry!” Emily said. “Spencer, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to smack you, you were just _really_ getting on my nerves, _please_ don’t tell Alex.”

Alex looked up from her chromebook and took out her earbuds. “Hm?” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Emily hit-”

“Penelope said-”

“David threw-”

“Oh my god,” Alex said. “Okay, okay, stop. Just…stop, everybody. One at a time, please.”

Hotch dragged his hands over his face. “I just want a little peace and quiet,” he mumbled into his palms. 

“Spence, I’m sorry, really,” Emily said earnestly. “Are you okay?”

Spencer sat up. “To quote Anne Shirley…I am well in body but distinctly rumpled in spirit,” he said, rubbing his eyes. 

“What’s the translation?” Emily asked.

He pushed himself up off the floor. “You threw a pillow at my face, and I think I’m mad about it!” he accused. “And yes, I _know_ I’m pouting, and I don’t care!”

“Oh, now you’ve done it, Prentiss,” Dave said.

Hotch got up from the table and stomped over to them. “That’s enough,” he said. He picked up Spencer under his arms and plunked him down on Alex’s lap. “Emily, you are six years older than him. Chill.” Dave snickered. “Dave, stop making it worse.” 

“Penelope, you’re not going to busk on street corners or join the circus, if you take a second and stop freaking out you’ll realize that you know more than you think you do,” James added. 

“Yes! Thank you,” Hotch said. “Derek, you need to take this seriously. You have to keep your grades up or they’ll move you from varsity down to JV. And Wallace will get your spot.”

Derek scowled. “Fuck Wallace,” he grumbled.

“And JJ…” Hotch paused. 

“What?” she said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No, you’re the most well-behaved, but…why are you upside down?”

JJ blinked. She hadn’t realized how she got there, but sure enough, she was lying on a scattered heap of worksheets with her heels propped up on the wall. “I don’t know, these things happen,” she said. Hotch sighed.

Emily scrambled off the couch. “Okay, okay, I know tensions are running really high right now,” she said. “And I know some of it is my fault-”

“You knocked me over like a bowling pin,” Spencer sulked.

Alex adjusted him on her lap. “I think you’ll live,” she said, and he crossed his arms. 

“Stop reminding me! Jesus, I’m trying to apologize!” Emily said. “What if I order pizza for everybody? It’s almost dinner time anyway and we’re all stressed, we should take a break. Will I finally be forgiven?”

Spencer opened his mouth to argue. “Yes,” JJ said immediately. She rolled over to sit up, shifting her papers around. “Oh my god, yes, please.”

“I’ll always vote for pizza,” Derek said.

Penelope looked down at the half-a-dozen fortune tellers scattered around her. “Maybe a break will help me focus again,” she said sadly.

Emily crouched down next to Alex’s chair. “Spencer?” she said sweetly. “Am I forgiven?” He huffed, blowing a lock of hair off his forehead. She poked him lightly. “Am I? Am? Am I?”

His mouth tilted. “Can I tell you the facts I was going to say?” he asked.

Emily sighed. “Yes,” she said. “Go ahead, Dr. Reid. Tell me everything you know about carbonation.”

“You brought this on yourself, Prentiss,” Hotch pointed out.

“I know. I know.”


	14. Spencer falls asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "Reid falling asleep in the strangest is so cute to me. Like imagine them all freaking like where tf is he? cut to him asleep behind the washing machine and they're all like...why."

“Guys!” Derek shouted. “Guys, I found him!”

“We found him,” JJ said, elbowing him in the ribs. “And sh! You’re going to wake him up.”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, you’re right.”

They’d spent the past half hour looking for Spencer. He couldn’t have left Lincoln House, and yet he was nowhere to be found. But then again, Spencer was talented at finding the most impossible places to curl up and take a nap.

Hotch slowed his pace as he skidded into the room. “Seriously?” he said. “Where is he?” JJ and Derek silently pointed to the washing machine. “Seriously?”

“He’s not in it, he’s behind it,” Derek said quickly.

Hotch peeked around the industrial machine and sighed. “Oh, god,” he said. Spencer was cuddled up behind the washing machine on a long-forgotten towel, a little nest of his own making. “Spencer…Jesus. You’ve got to stop doing this.”

Spencer mumbled something in his sleep and burrowed deeper. Hotch crouched down and scooped up him gingerly, trying not to wake him. “You guys need to watch him,” he said.

“We try! You know how he sneaks off,” JJ said, hands on her hips.

“He needs to sleep at night, that’s what he really needs,” Hotch said. He adjusted Spencer against his chest; the sleepy child tossed his arms around his neck. “All right, come on, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.”


	15. bad day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by juicebox anon: "I feel like I"m sending you so many messages and I feel bad so I'm sorry this is the last one I swear. But Imagine Spencer having a bad day and then something pushes him over the edge and he just starts crying for Hotch or Alex to make it better. They're so parental towards him, it makes my heart happy."

It was a bad day.

Typically he did his best think logically. Things happened for specific reasons, and if something didn’t go the way he intended, surely there was a way to fix it.

But he didn’t sleep well (again, really, he ought to be used to it by then, but still) and he woke up groggy and cranky, and Derek was in his way, and he just wanted to go back to bed but it wasn’t an option.

And his well-worn backpack popped the zipper again, dumping his things in a puddle on his way to breakfast, and it took him so long to gather everything up that he didn’t have time to eat.

And his homework was wet, and his math teacher wouldn’t accept it.

And he stayed late to redo his work, and he was so late for lunch he didn’t even bother to go.

And Neal and Dallas surrounded him during history class, stealing his pencils when he wasn’t paying attention to them, and when he paid attention they were the perfect students, and the second he let his guard down they were kicking his desk and flicking spitballs at him.

And he was a genius, everyone told him so, but that didn’t mean that everything came easily, and he got a high C on his English essay because sometimes the thoughts in his head didn’t always translate to paper, sometimes they spilled out tangled because he was ten years old and his brain wasn’t fully formed, less fully formed than the fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds who got the same grade on the same work.

He didn’t even feel like going to the library, he didn’t feel like reading. And he shouldn’t feel that way, bad days didn’t actually exist, he just needed to suck it up and be mature. He thought that maybe he could sneak into the amphitheater and study quietly on his own, but the second he got comfortably the skies opened, pouring rain on him, and by the time he made it back to Lincoln House he was drenched and cold, his hair plastered to his forehead and his uniform dripping dark puddles on the floor.

He trudged up the stairs to the seventh floor, gritting his teeth. There was no reason to get upset. He was mature. He was responsible. He fit in here. He just needed to keep it together.

The younger half of the group piled around the common room; Emily was painting her nails and the scent of the polish twisted into an irritated headache. He had to sidestep Penelope’s laptop left abandoned on the floor, and Derek’s heap of sports equipment, and the two of them were playing a bright colored videon game with JJ, shouting at each other, the piercing cheerful audio dialed up too loud and digging into his ears. 

“Oh, Spencer, there you are,” Emily said. “You mind taking a look at my trig homework? After what happened in class today I can’t afford to fuck up.”

His backpack fell to the floor with a wet _splat_. Emily didn’t look up from her nails. “It shouldn’t take too long,” she said. “I mean, shit, for you it’ll take about ten minutes.”

“And when you’re done, you can play on JJ’s team, she’s losing bad,” Derek laughed.

He didn’t want to look at her stupid trig homework. He didn’t want to play stupid video games. He was wet, and cold, and hungry, and his head hurt, and-

“I don’t want to!” he said, and he burst into tears.

The video game went silent instantly. Emily capped her nail polish and got up quickly from the table. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” she said. “What happened?”

“I had a bad day!” he sobbed. “And… _and I want Alex!_ ”

He buried his face in his hands and bawled. Any attempt at holding onto his composure was gone. He wasn’t a mature-for-his-age prodigy who could handle any unexpected stress thrown at him, he was only ten years old and he was _over it_.

Emily knelt down and gripped his elbows. “Okay, kiddo, take a breath,” she said. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” He cried harder, his fingers beginning to pull at his hair, and he couldn’t stop. “JJ is calling Alex, she’s at the library, she’ll be here in a second, okay?”

He couldn’t stop crying, the dam had burst and _he couldn’t stop crying._ “Come here, munchkin,” Emily said, softer than he had ever heard her speak before, and he shoved her away and ran. He ran down the hall to his room and slammed the door, and he dropped on the floor without bothering to turn on the lights.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. His dad was right, he should have stayed in his own grade with other kids his age, he should have stayed home in Las Vegas…but his father was gone and his mother was gone and there wasn’t a home to go to anymore.

He could hear the other kids in the hallway, their voices too loud even though they tried to whisper.

“I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Is he okay? Should we be worried? I feel like we should worry.”

“Fuck if I know. I’ve never heard him ask specifically for anybody before.”

That was true. He’d never called for Alex before, or Hotch, or anybody. He couldn’t even remember calling out for his parents after a bad dream or getting sick in the middle of the night. But his exhausted little body was screaming _someone come fix this_ , and Alex had never failed him before.

“Should we go in and check on him?”

“No way. Wait for Alex. Or Hotch. Do you know where he is?”

“RA meeting.”

“Shit.”

Spencer curled into a little ball and sobbed into the carpet, his wet clothes clawing at his skin, and the feeling overwhelmed him, twisting him tighter and tighter like a watch wound too tight, and crying didn’t make him feel any better.

The door creaked open. “Go away,” he sobbed. “Go away!”

Someone sat down beside him and touched the back of his head gently. “Spence, it’s me,” Alex said softly. 

He sat up, tears wet on his cheeks, his nose running, and he flung himself into her arms. She gathered him onto her lap, pressing his head to rest against her shoulder, and she let him cry.

He cried until his eyes were dry, almost painfully dry, and his throat ached. Alex rocked him a little, her arms secure and safe around him, and his breath caught in a shuddering sob without tears. 

The world began to settle back into place, like glitter in a snowglobe sifting back to the ground. He felt a little foolish now, the embarrassment of his temper tantrum sinking into his bones as his tossed thoughts began to fit together like puzzle pieces. But he couldn’t remember the last time that someone held him like this, letting him feel small and safe.

“Bad day?” she asked gently. He nodded. “That’s okay. Bad days happen. To everybody.”

He rubbed his cheek against her shoulder; the fabric of her blazer smelled like the library’s old books and the faint scent of her violet perfume. “I’m sorry I cried,” he whispered.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “You’re allowed to cry.” She kissed the top of his head, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone kissed him. “Do you feel better?” 

He sighed, shaky and tear-wet. “Uh-huh.”

“What else will help?” she asked. “What can I do to help?” He shrugged. “No, don’t do that. Don’t shut back down on me. Pick one thing. Tell me one thing I can do to help.”

He picked at the raw skin around his thumbnail. “I’m wet,” he said at last. “I got stuck in the rain.”

“You want to dry off and change your clothes?” she asked. He nodded. “Okay. We can do that.”

She lifted him gently off her lap and set him on the floor. He began to pull at his shoelace as she turned on the lights and rummaged through his dresser drawers.

The dry clothes helped; he was warmer now, and she’d picked out a soft tee shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants, both with the labels cut out to keep from scratching at his skin. She smoothed out his wet hair, fixing the worst of the tangles. “Is that better?” she asked. He nodded. “What else can I do to help?”

“I’m hungry,” he said, and this time it was easier to say what he needed. 

Alex smiled. “We can do that,” she said, and he trusted her.

* * *

Hotch opened the door and immediately collided with Emily.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, first of all, don’t freak out!” she said quickly.

“Jesus, Prentiss, what the hell is wrong with you?” he said. “You scared-” He stopped. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. Her eyes were wide, almost panicky. “Not like…really wrong. But…it’s kind of wrong.”

“Emily, you need to fucking spit it out,” he said, taking her by the elbow and pulling her aside. “What happened?”

“Spencer freaked,” she blurted out. “He just…he walked in, and I…god, I think I upset him, and he started crying, and I’ve never seen him cry like that before-”

“Where is he?” Hotch demanded.

“Upstairs, in the common room,” Emily said quickly. “Alex is with him, JJ called her as soon as he asked for her and she came right over.” 

He strode up the stairs, Emily jogging behind him. His heart squeezed in his chest. Spencer was a tough little kid, he could take most things in stride, and he was by far the smartest in their little family…and sometimes he just forgot that he was only a kid.

He ran up to the top of the stairs and made it to the seventh floor common room. It was cleaner and quieter than he had seen it in weeks; Penelope, Derek, and JJ sat on the floor watching a movie that played at a soft volume. Alex sat on the couch, still in her uniform, the velvet ribbon in her long hair half untied, and she was holding Spencer, stroking his hair back from his forehead. 

It wasn’t unusual for her to reach out for him and ask if he wanted a hug, or offer to let him sit on her lap. But the crawling sensation of worry prickled at the back of Hotch’s neck. Spencer was an antsy kind of kid, always fidgeting and spinning in chairs and busying himself with books and asking a million questions. The only time he was quiet was when he got tired, or sick.

This was different. Spencer was quiet, but his eyes were alert, watching the screen in mute concentration. He hugged a soft ivory blanket to his chest- it had been one of Derek’s, but it had silently become Spencer’s- and he wasn’t seeking warmth, he was seeking comfort, pressing it to his cheek and tangling it in his fingers.

Alex looked up and caught his eye. She tapped her finger to her lips lightly. Hotch approached with caution. Emily hung back, her arms crossed over her chest, hovering, and the other kids pretended that they weren’t watching. “Hey, kiddo,” he said, kneeling down beside the couch. “I heard you’re having a rough time.”

Spencer nodded. Now that he was closer he could see how red-rimmed his eyes were, and his hazel eyes were too bright. “I had a bad day,” he rasped. 

Hotch sat down cross-legged on the floor. “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

Spencer hugged the blanket tighter to his chest and shook his head, pressing his lips tight together. Alex kept stroking his hair, and her other hand rested on his side. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to talk about it,” he reassured him. “Do you feel better than you did earlier?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Good,” Hotch said. He touched Spencer’s chin lightly. He didn’t know what else to say, but at least Spencer seemed calm. 

He got up from the floor and tugged Emily across the hall into his room. “Tell me what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

Emily shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” she said. “He…I asked him if he would help me with my trig homework, and Derek told him he was going to play video games when he was done. And he started crying.”

She chewed absently at her nails; Hotch wanted to tear her hand out of her mouth. “What else?” he asked. “What else was happening? Right when he walked in, what was happening?”

“I don’t know!” she said desperately. “It was…it was loud, I guess, the kids had their video game turned up really loud, and they were yelling. I was painting my nails. And Spencer…god, he got stuck in the rain, I didn’t even notice right away, but he was drenched…”

He could put the pieces together from there. Most likely there were more things that he had missed, more things that had piled on Spencer’s shoulders until he couldn’t bear it anymore, but it made sense. “But he asked for Alex?” he asked instead.

Emily nodded. “She took care of him,” she said. “She got his clothes changed, got him something to eat. The kids and I cleaned up and put the movie on for him.”

“That’s good,” he said. Emily sighed, covering her mouth with her hand. “He’s okay, Emily. This happens with little kids.”

“I forget he’s a little kid,” she said. “He’s Spencer, and he’s so smart, and- fuck, I don’t know anything about little kids.”

Hotch bit back a rueful smile. “Spencer’s brilliant, but he’s ten years old,” he said. “He’s got emotions that are too big for the rest of him, and he hasn’t learned how to express them. For kids, sometimes this is the only way they can work out feelings that are too big to handle.”

She snorted. “God, why are you always so calm and sensible?” she said.

“Years of practice,” he said, giving in and grinning at her. “Spencer is fine. He’s not going to be permanently damaged or anything. He’s a little kid who had a shitty day.”

Emily sighed, a little less shakily. “Yeah, well…I’m still gonna let you and Alex handle the meltdowns,” she said. “I don’t have the programming for this.”

He didn’t let on that he’d been just as worried as she was. Instead, he went back into the common room and sat down on the other end of the couch, where he could keep a safe eye on Spencer. 

The movie was almost over when Alex got his attention. “Hey, he’s asleep,” she whispered. “Can you give me a hand?”

He got up carefully, trying not to jostle him. Spencer was out like a light, his mouth dropped slightly open, the soft blanket still clutched to his chest. Hotch slid an arm under his shoulders and another under his knees, scooping him up like a baby. It was a good thing Spencer was small for his age- it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep in a strange place and needed to be carried to bed.

Alex followed behind him, leaving the door open so the hallway light could filter in the room, and pulled the covers back from the bed. Hotch eased Spencer down carefully; Spencer mumbled something sleepily and shifted around, getting comfortable. Alex tucked him in snugly, smoothing out the blankets, and kissed his temple before switching on his nightlight.

The second they made it to the hallway and the door closed, she let out a wobbly exhale, flexing her hands. “Are you okay?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, but her voice shook. “Oh god. I just…” She dragged her hands over her face. “God, that scared me.”

“Emily filled me in on some of it,” he said.

Alex dashed at her eyes. “I’ve never seen him cry like that,” she said. “He was on the floor, just sobbing like his heart was broken. He was just…he was so overwhelmed.”

“But you took care of him,” he said, trying to reassure her. Alex was usually so calm and so put-together, it was slightly unsettling to see her on the verge of tears.

“I’m just…always nervous I’m going to say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing,” she said. “He’s so vulnerable, and I don’t want to make anything harder on him.”

“Have you been able to get in touch with his parents?” Hotch asked quietly.

She shook her head. “I found his dad’s law firm and I’ve sent a couple emails, but no answer,” she said. “And his mom’s university email keeps bouncing back.”

“Well, in the meantime, he has us,” Hotch said firmly. “And he’s okay now, and we’ll make sure that he’ll stay okay.”

Alex laughed. “The eight of us will just have to raise him ourselves, I suppose,” she said. 


	16. drunk Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "Emily gets drunk and comes back to the school and she voices her love for all of them and won't stop hugging baby Reid. Can you imagine the cuteness??"

“Hey, guys?” Dave called up the stairs. “I just want everyone to know that none of this is my fault. In fact, I should be considered a hero.”

Hotch, James, and Alex raised their heads slowly from their respective homework. “What the fuck is happening?” James whispered.

“Language,” Hotch whispered, nodding towards the younger kids piled in front of the TV.

“I say ‘fuck’ all the time, Hotch,” Derek said, only half paying attention.

Something heavy thumped on the stairs and a high pitched giggle floated up. Alex closed her Russian dictionary. “If Rossi is bringing another new girlfriend in here, I swear to god…”

Emily stumbled to the top of the stairs and flung her arms in the air like a gymnast landing a vault. “I made it!” she cheered.

Dave climbed up behind her. “Listen, I only lost her for like two seconds,” he said. 

“Oh, no,” James said. “You didn’t.”

“Did what?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, did what?” Penelope echoed. 

Emily grinned. “We went to a party!” she said. “And there was a tequila!”

Hotch slowly turned to glare at Dave. “It’s a school night, and you took Emily to a party?” he asked.

Dave shrugged helplessly. “She was very persuasive,” he said. 

“Very, very persuasive,” Emily nodded.

Alex rested her chin in her hand. “She told you a certain girl was going to be there, didn’t she?” she said.

“I’m very persuasive,” Emily repeated. She threw her arms around Alex’s neck. “Lemme…lemme braid your hair.”

“No, no, not this time,” Alex said, peeling her hands away. “Oh, I’m not excited about sharing a room with you tonightonce this starts to wear off..” 

Emily smiled dreamily and raked her fingers through Alex’s hair. “It’s so _red_ ,” she mumbled. Alex sighed and dropped her chin in her hand again. 

Penelope and JJ leaned over the back of the couch to watch. “Do you think she’ll throw up this time?” Penelope asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” JJ said. “At least twice.”

Spencer looked up from his book. “Make her drink V8 again, that worked last time,” he said.

“Emily, we’ve been over this,” Hotch said. “You can get in serious trouble if you’re caught drunk on campus.”

“Oh, shit, no,” she whined. She fumbled in her pockets. “I can…I got…”

“Don’t show me your credit cards again.”

“My credit cards!” she said, waving her wallet at him. “I’ll…I can…yeah, I’ll give ‘em money and it’ll be fine.”

“No, it won’t be,” Hotch said patiently. 

Emily scowled and stumbled over to him. “Mr. Hotchner,” she said. “Mr. Hotchner, you gotta…why don’t you fuckin’ _smile_ , dude?”

Derek burst out laughing; she whipped around and shook her finger at him. “This is a _serious_ question!” she said. “I…I _know_ you can smile.”

Hotch grimaced at her. “There,” he said. “Now can you please pour yourself back into your dorm room and sleep this off?” 

Emily frowned, plunking down on his lap. “You need to smile,” she said. She grabbed at his face and pulled at his cheeks. “It’s…it’s in there somewhere.”

“Emily, please,” Hotch said, pained, as her thumb came perilously close to jabbing up his nose.

“No, keep going, I wanna see what happens,” Penelope said.

Emily’s frown deepened. “Why won’t you smile?” she demanded.

“See if you can initiate gargalesis,” Spencer suggested.

“The fuck you say to me, nerd baby?” Emily said.

Spencer scowled. “Tickle him.”

Emily brightened. James immediately got up, gathering his homework. “This is going to end horribly,” he said. “Oh god. Oh, god.”

“He’s not smiling!” Emily said, digging her fingers in Hotch’s sides.

Hotch pressed his mouth together, firmly stoic. “Stop trying to tickle me,” he said. “You need to sober up, and I’m not ticklish, so-”

“Don’t ask me how I know this. Back of the knees,” Alex said.

Hotch’s mouth dropped open. “How did you-” he started to say, but Emily lunged for his knees, and he burst out laughing, trying to wrestle her off his lap. “God! Emily! Stop! Stop, you got me to smile, okay, I’m smiling!”

She tumbled to the floor and scrambled to her feet unsteadily, screeching with laughter. “I did it!” she said. “Aha! I knew you could…could fuckin’ smile.”

Penelope held up her phone. “I can’t wait to show this to her tomorrow,” she said. 

Emily staggered over to her. “You are so cute,” she said. She dropped her hands on JJ and Penelope’s head. “Two just…cute little princesses.”

“Oh, she’s really gone this time,” JJ said. She gently pried Emily’s hand off her head. “Emily, you should take it easy.”

“I can get you some snacks,” Penelope offered as Emily tangled her hand in her hair, giggling as the pompoms tied to her ponytail bounced. “Some nice saltines, maybe? A piece of dry bread? Something to soak up the alcohol in your bloodstream.”

“Hey, she hasn’t called me ‘cute’ yet, that’s how we’ll know she’s real bad,” Derek said.

Emily let go of Penelope’s hair. “But you _are_ cute,” she said. “So…so fucking cute. You guys are all just…fucking babies and I love…all of you.”

“I’m only a year younger than you,” Derek said dryly. “Spencer’s the baby.”

“Hey!” Spencer protested. “I’m very mature for my age!”

Emily stumbled over to him, leaning over the side of the couch, and swooped him up in a snuggle. “You _are_ a baby!” she said. “Just the babyest…fuckin’ baby.”

“You smell like hand sanitizer,” Spencer complained, squirming in her grip as she smacked kisses on his cheeks. “And I’m not a baby! Guys! C’mon, help me!”

“I’m not taking the risk,” Hotch said flatly. “Now that _someone_ decided to blab.” Alex shrugged.

“Derek!” Spencer said, trying to wriggle away from Emily’s octopus-like hug.

“Nah, man, I’m not gonna take the risk either,” Derek said.

“Ooh! Try to initiate…gargling. Gargantuan. Gar…what was it again?” Penelope said.

Spencer scrunched up his face. “Gargalesis?” he said. Emily grinned and started tickling his ribs. “Noooo! Emily, no, stop tickling me!” He shrieked with laughter, kicking his legs at her and in an attempt to twist free. 

“Emily, stop torturing Spencer, he’s going to pee himself,” JJ said.

“No, I won’t!”

“Emily, you gotta stop, he has to breathe.”

“What?” Emily said, momentarily distracted, and Spencer tumbled off the couch and beelined to the table to duck behind Hotch and Alex. 

“Emily, you’ve got to chill,” Dave said. “We don’t want a repeat of what happened after homecoming.”

“What happened at homecoming?” Hotch asked, eyes narrowing as Spencer climbed onto his lap.

“Nothing,” Dave said quickly. Emily scowled and started scolding him in Italian; he shot back, waving his hands.

“What’s happening?” Derek asked. “What are we missing?”

“Profanity, mostly,” Alex said.

“Yeah, and you guys didn’t want me to learn how to say ‘fuck’,” Spencer said. Hotch covered his ears. 

Emily halted midsentence, holding out her hands. “Wait…wait…” she said.

JJ drew back. “Oh, she’s gonna hurl,” she said.

“False alarm,” Emily said. “We’re good. We’re good, everybody.”

Alex got up from the table and tied her hair back into a ponytail, snapping the elastic with resigned determination. “All right, Prentiss, say goodnight to everybody,” she said. “We’re going back to our dorm, and you’re going to sober up.”

Emily pouted and whined in Italian; Alex rattled something back and Emily sighed heavily. “Okay, okay, take me away,” she said. “Bye, everybody, love you.”

“Bye, Emily,” they chorused.

They didn’t see her again until breakfast the next morning; Emily sat with her head down on the table and a glass of tomato juice at her elbow. “So I take it things went well?” Dave said.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Alex said. “Miss Prentiss over here…”

“Shut up,” Emily mumbled into her folded arms. “Shut up, shut up, shut up…”

“Have we learned an important lesson?” Hotch asked.

Emily raised her head. Her eyes were still smeared with last night’s makeup. “That your ticklish spot is under your knees?” she said. 

Hotch’s ears turned red. “No, hopefully you learned a lesson about getting drunk on a school night,” he said. “Or, better yet, you’ve learned to not get drunk because you’re underage and it’s bad for your health.”

“Aw, come on, chief,” she said. She mimed finger guns at him. “Gimme a week, I’ll forget all about this.”

“Oh! I can help with that,” Penelope said. She handed her phone to Derek, who passed it to JJ, who propped it up in front of Emily. “Here’s the video! Maybe this will help remind you.”

Emily went pale. “Oh, _cazzo_ ,” she mumbled.

“That basically means ‘fuck’!” Spencer announced.


	17. Spencer climbs trees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by bunny anon: "This is completely out of the blue but I just imagine Spencer with a fear of heights that he doesn't really realize until maybe he's exploring campus on night and he gets stuck up in the rafters of the chapel, staring down and being too stuck with fear to move, and Hotch/Morgan eventually find him and carry him down. Either that or he terrifies the other kids because he sometimes climbs trees to reading and gets so high and he's so small and 'dear god, Spencer, you're not a cat!'"

Really, it was Emily’s fault.

The St. Thaddeus campus was covered in tall trees, broad oaks and sap-covered pines and twisting dogwoods, and while it was strictly against the rules to climb trees, and the school groundskeeper was notorious for losing his mind at anyone caught…Emily had never been one for following rules.

And once Emily started climbing trees, Derek couldn’t abide being outdone, so he had to climb higher than her, and faster. And he started teasing JJ, who wouldn’t stand for that, so she would climb up and join them too.

Penelope was adamantly against climbing trees (“I am in a _skirt_ and _heels_ and there is too much _nature_ , let me sit on my picnic blanket in _peace_ , thank you very much”) and Hotch was a stickler for rules (“it’s not worth the risk, and you guys should get down”). Alex sometimes settled for a lower branch, broad and solid enough to stretch out her legs and read a book, and James sometimes joined her. Dave subscribed to Penelope’s theories (“I’m not scuffing these shoes up. They’re brand new. Italian leather.”) and stayed on solid ground.

Spencer was just jealous.

He was the smallest of all of them; Penelope was the next shortest and he didn’t even reach her shoulder. There was one particular pine that he could climb onto the lowest branches, but besides being small for his age, he didn’t have the muscles in his skinny little arms to pull himself up higher. On more than one occasion Emily and Derek had offered to hoist him up to a taller branch, but he was so personally offended that they just laughed and left him to struggle on the ground by himself.

“You’ll grow eventually, _passerotto_ ,” Emily had said, ruffling his hair and making him scowl in embarrassment. “For now you’re just our little munchkin.”

“I’m not a baby, Emily!” he had shot back. “I’m ten!”

After a while it got too cold to sit outside in trees, and they retreated to the coffee shop in the student union or the seventh floor common room in Lincoln House, or the library while Alex worked, and tree climbing was forgotten.

They also forgot how stubborn Spencer was.

The door to Spencer and Derek’s shared room was open; Hotch knocked lightly for formality’s sake and peeked in. “Hey, bedchecks,” he said. “You guys okay?”

Derek pulled off his headphones. “Huh?”

“Bedchecks,” Hotch repeated. “How are you and…” He stopped. “Where’s Spencer?”

Derek looked around the small room. “Uh…no idea,” he said. “He was here, though, I’m pretty sure.”

Hotch checked his watch. “Okay, well, he’s never missed bedchecks before,” he said. “Is he in the bathroom?”

“Maybe,” Derek said, sliding off his bed. 

There was no sign of Spencer in the bathroom, or the common room, or the lobby of Lincoln House. “God, we need to get him a phone,” Hotch said. He rubbed his temples. “Okay. When did you see him last?”

“He was at dinner,” Derek offered. “Maybe he’s with Alex? Or the girls?”

“Text Penelope, her phone’s glued to her hand and she’ll answer faster than JJ,” Hotch said. “I’ll text Alex. But she’s always gotten Spencer back here on time for bedchecks.”

Derek held up his phone first.

**pen ~*baby girl*~ garcia  
8:14pm  
 _nooo_** _o I havent seen boy wonder since dinner!!_

“And then it’s just a bunch of emojis,” Derek said. Hotch’s phone buzzed. “What did Alex say?”

**mom friend miller  
8:15pm  
 _I do_** _n’t have him. did you lose him???_

Hotch groaned. “God, we lost him,” he said. 

“Should we go looking for him?” Derek asked.

“Yeah, I have to,” Hotch said. 

Derek scowled. “Hey, I’m coming with you,” he said. Hotch opened his mouth to argue. “Yeah, I know, I’m an underclassmen and I’m supposed to be in my room by eight. Fuck that, you’re my RA and you don’t have to report me to Gideon. And let’s be real, Gideon won’t care.”

Hotch sighed. “All right, fine,” he said. “I’ll text Alex and Emily too. But I’m not letting JJ and Penelope get in trouble.”

Hotch’s phone buzzed again; Derek leaned over his arm and snickered at the screen.

**the cause of my headaches prentiss  
8:17pm  
** _holy_ _shit hotchner did you lose a whole ass child?????????_

“Okay, okay, let’s just go,” Hotch said, rolling his eyes.

They grabbed jackets before they left; it wasn’t snowing yet but the November air had a sharp cold bite. It was already dark, and Hotch tried to stifled the worry beginning to crawl at the back of his neck.

The girls met them in the courtyard. Emily had already washed off her makeup and tied her hair up in a scraggly excuse for a ponytail. “How’d you lose Spencer?” she asked. 

“I didn’t lose him!” Hotch protested.

“Emily, tease him later when we’ve found Spencer,” Alex said. She jammed her hands in her coat pockets and her long hair spilled over her shoulders. “Where’s the last place someone saw him?”

“Dinner,” Hotch said. “He must have slipped off somewhere without anybody noticing. I don’t know where he could have gone. Or why he would have gone.”

“I don’t think he would have gone back in the main building, I’m usually one of the last ones out of there and it’s locked up tight,” Alex said.

“He’s got to be somewhere on campus,” Emily said, tugging the zipper of her North Face jacket. “And I don’t think he would have wandered too far.”

“We’ll split up,” Hotch said. “Just stay in contact. Text the group chat in fifteen minutes with any updates.”

They headed in their separate directions; Hotch pulled his hood up as the wind started to blow. It wasn’t like Spencer to wander off without telling anyone where he was going, or without getting back to his dorm by curfew. 

He wouldn’t worry yet. Or at least, not acknowledge that he was worried. 

He’d almost reached the end of the fifteen-minute window when he got to the overgrown fence around the abandoned amphitheater. That would make sense- the older kids had shown it to them at the beginning of the school year and it was one of their most common hang out spots before the weather had gotten too cold.

He reached through the ivy covering the gates and rattled the latch.

“Hello?”

He nearly pissed himself.

“Who said that?” he said, a little too sharply. He wrestled with the gate, trying to forcibly yank it open.

“Hotch?”

He stopped. He knew that voice.

“Spencer?” he said. “Where are you?”

“…up here.”

He let go of the latch and took a step back. “What do you mean, ‘up here’?” he said.

Several tall trees flanked the amphitheater. The branches of a particularly tall pine rattled. “I mean… _up here_ ,” Spencer said.

Hotch looked up. He could see a little figure huddled on a branch about fifteen feet above the ground. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said.

“I might have miscalculated,” Spencer said in a small, wobbly voice. “I just wanted to practice.”

“Practice climbing trees?” Hotch said. “Spencer. It’s past bedchecks. The sun’s gone down. It’s freezing.”

“I was only going to be out here for a little while!” he protested. “I just…climbed a little higher than usual. And then I realized something.”

“That you’d made a terrible, terrible mistake?” Hotch said dryly.

“Uh-huh.”

Hotch sighed. “So you climbed too high and you can’t get back down?” he said.

A pause. “Uh-huh.”

Hotch pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let me text the others,” he said, typing out a message to the group chat. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m very tired of sitting on a tree branch that does not have enough stability, but other than that, I’m okay,” Spencer said. “And…I might be a little cold.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Hotch said. He peered up in the dark tree branches; he could just barely make out Spencer’s silhouette. “Well, we’ll get you down. But I may tell Gideon you missed bedchecks.”

“No, Hotch, please, don’t get me in trouble!” Spencer protested. “I’ll be good! I won’t do it again!”

Derek jogged towards them. “Hotch, you found him?” he called. Hotch silently pointed upwards. “Holy shit. What’re you doing up there, pretty boy?”

“Regretting all my life choices that brought me to this point!”

“You’re only ten. How many life choices have you made so far?”

“Enough to regret this! Please get me down!”

Derek grinned, his hands on his hips. “Should we let him sit up there a little longer, let him think about what he’s done?” he asked.

“No, I think he’s suffered enough,” Hotch said. “You climb up and get him, I’ll spot.”

Derek pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “All right, all right, I’ll get him,” he said.

Hotch crossed his arms and watched as Derek climbed easily up the pattern of branches. “Be careful,” he called.

“Why are you talking to a tree, Hotchner?” Emily asked.

He glanced back at the girls. “I’m not talking to a tree, I’m talking to the child prodigy stuck in a tree,” he said.

Alex sighed heavily. “Oh, lord,” she said. “Spencer? Are you okay?”

“I’ll be better when I’m out of here!”

“Is Emily here?” Derek said. “Can you climb up a little and spot?”

“Yeah, I can!” she said. She pulled herself up, her long legs in her flannel pajama pants still visible but her upper half vanishing into the trees.

“Don’t drop him!” Hotch warned.

“Yeah, please, don’t drop me!”

It was a slow process, but eventually they got Spencer back onto solid ground. His knees buckled the second Derek put him down. “Give me a second, give me a second,” he sighed, pressing his hands over his face. “Oh my god.”

Hotch crouched down beside him. “What have we learned?” he asked.

“I’m never climbing trees again,” Spencer said, slightly muffled. “Never again. The ground was so far away.”

“Not a fan of heights?” Emily teased.

“Any hopes I had of being an astronaut have been officially dashed.”

“You could have gotten seriously hurt, Spencer,” Alex said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He huddled on the ground, his face still covered. “I was tired of everybody teasing me!” he said. “I thought that maybe…I could practice now, and then in the spring nobody would tease me for not being able to climb trees…and…and it’s extremely childish now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“It is childish,” Hotch said. “Alex is right, you could have gotten hurt. And what if we hadn’t come looking for you? You could have-”

Spencer raised his head, and the tear tracks on his cheeks were shiny in the moonlight. “Can you yell at me tomorrow, please?” he asked.

Hotch softened. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said. “Not yelling, I promise. But we’re going to have a talk.” Spencer nodded, his lower lip trembling. “And I won’t tell Gideon, as long as you promise to never pull a stunt like this again.”

Spencer nodded again. Hotch held out his hand to help him off ground and he took it, wobbling to his feet. “I promise I’ll never pull a stunt like this again,” he said. 

Emily pulled him into a hug. “And I’ll lay off on teasing you, okay? I’m calling a truce,” she said. She frowned and pushed him back to hold him at arm’s length. “You are _freezing_. Jesus.”

“Hotch, give me your hoodie,” Alex said. He took it off quickly and she slid Spencer’s arms through the sleeves and zipped up the front. The cuffs dangled past his small hands. 

“I updated the group chat,” Derek said. “Dave and James were about ready to drive over here and help look.”

Spencer’s lower lip wobbled. Alex hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her waist, hiding his face against her stomach. “Come on, darling, let’s get you back to your room and warmed up,” she said. 

“Yeah, Penelope and JJ are making hot chocolate,” Derek said.

“Oh, I’m definitely coming back with you guys,” Emily saiid.

Spencer peeked out from the safety of Alex’s hug. “There’s still marshmallows, right?” he asked. 

Hotch playfully tugged his jacket hood over his head. “As long as you didn’t eat all of them,” he said. 

Spencer pushed back the hood and grinned. “I might have left a couple,” he said. “You know, I could see the creek from all the way up there.”

“Oh, yeah?” Emily said. She ruffled his hair. “Maybe you’ll try this again later, when you’re a little taller. I bet you’ll be taller than me someday.”

“Not taller than me, though,” Derek said. “Almost, though.”


	18. riding a bike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "Can you please do a happy Spencer blurb? Maybe he got a super good grade or good news and he's excited and everyone is just happy and excited for him? I just want cute happy little Spence."

**“A** nderson, what have I told you about playing your music at top volume?” Alex asked, reaching over and slapping the pause button. “Get some headphones, jesus.”

“I accidentally ran them through the washer,” Anderson complained. “And I can’t study unless I’m listening to music.”

“Then study in your dorm.”

“I can’t, my roommate’s in there.”

Alex huffed. “Well, the library is supposed to be quiet, so either turn it off or go somewhere else,” she said. Anderson closed his Spotify app, sulking, and she went back to shelving.

“If I can’t listen to the Mean Girls cast recording, I don’t think you’re allowed to sing to yourself,” Anderson called.

“Goddammit, Anderson.”

She rolled her eyes and dragged the cart behind her, sorting through Lewis and Llewellyn in the fiction section. Usually Saturdays were quiet workdays where she could do what she wanted- and she didn’t even typically work Saturdays, she took an extra shift from one of the juniors. If she wanted the exact dress she wanted for her senior prom, she could suck it up and work a little extra. She was going to have her dream dress for her last prom, goddammit, even if nobody asked her and she had to spend her Saturday with Anderson asking her questions he could definitely google for himself.

The heavy double doors banged open. “Alex! Alex!” Derek bellowed. “Guess what?”

“Guess what happened?” JJ shouted.

“Oh my god, what?” she said, catching a hardback copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. “What’s wrong? Why are you shouting in the library?”

“Yeah, why are you shouting in the library?” Anderson said. “It’s supposed to be quiet!”

“Shut up, Anderson,” Derek said. He pushed Spencer forward. “Tell her, pretty boy!”

“No, make her guess!” JJ said.

Alex looked at the three of them, disheveled and red-cheeked from running around outside, sweating in their tee shirts and shorts but beaming. “Honestly, I have no idea,” she said. “Just tell me.”

“I can ride a bike!” Spencer shrieked. “It was a lot of trial and error, but I can ride a bike now!”

“He only fell over…well, he fell over a lot,” JJ said.

“Yeah, his balance is shit, but he can do it!” Derek said.

“Spencer, I’m so proud of you!” Alex said. He flung his arms around her waist and she scooped him up. “I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither!” he said. “Really, once I figured out how the kinetic energy and momentum could-”

“No, it was when Hotch let go of the back and didn’t tell him,” Derek said. “He was halfway through the parking lot before he realized he wasn’t there.”

“And then he fell over again,” JJ added.

“That’s how I got this,” Spencer said, showing Alex his skinned elbow. “Derek told me that chicks dig scars, but I think this’ll be too shallow to scar, at least for any permanence.”

Alex laughed and set him back down on the ground. “I’m so proud of you, Spence,” she said, bending to cup his chin in her hand and kiss his cheek. 

He beamed up at her, basking in the praise. JJ had tied his long hair back in a tiny ponytail with a purple elastic, but it was trying desperately to escape. “I’m so tired,” he said happily. “That’s normal, right? To feel like your legs are gonna fall off?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Derek said, tugging playfully on his ponytail. “You’ll get used to it.”

Alex took her lanyard of keys off her neck. “I think this is a good time to close up the library for the day,” she said. “How about we get Dave and James to drive us to town to get dinner? I think we need to celebrate.”

Spencer lit up. “Really?” he said.

“Really, but all three of you are disgusting and you need to shower first,” she said. Derek shrugged. “Hey, Anderson! Library’s closed! You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

“But I wasn’t done,” he whined.

“I’ll let you take that reference book with you for today, and I’ll open the library for two hours tomorrow,” she bargained. Anderson pouted. “I’ll let you play your music without your headphones.”

“Okay, fine. I _guess_.”


	19. road trip!

Hotch flipped on the lights and both boys immediately groaned, pulling their covers over their heads. “All right, everybody up, we gotta go,” he said. 

Derek rubbed his eyes and held his up his phone. “It’s five in the morning, Hotch,” he complained. He dropped his phone on his face. “Dammit.”

“We want to be on the road before six, so let’s go,” he said.

Spencer sat up, his hair sticking up on the side of his head. “I just fell asleep an hour ago,” he complained. “Can I sleep a little longer?”

“You can sleep in the car,” Hotch said.

Spencer scowled. “I can’t sleep in the car.”

“You fall asleep in the car all the time. Get up.” Spencer dragged himself out of bed, rolling his eyes. “Are you guys packed? Do you need any help?”

Derek glanced around his chaotic side of the room. “Uh…I’ll get it done,” he said. 

Hotch sighed. “Just hurry, okay?” he said. “We gotta go. I’m going to go check on the girls.”

He closed the door and headed for the stairs. Getting a four-day weekend for teacher in-service meant they had plenty of time on their hands, but they didn’t want to sit around on campus or go to Dave’s house again. Somehow they had decided on making the three hour drive to the Mammoth Cave national park to go camping, which had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now that he was in charge of getting the four youngest kids ready to go when the sun wasn’t even up, he was kind of regretting it.

He made it down to the third floor and knocked lightly. Penelope whipped the door open. “Good morning!” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

He blinked. “Okay, that sounds only mildly creepy,” he said. “How are you guys doing?”

“Pretty good,” JJ said. She gestured towards her backpack and Penelope’s duffel bag on the floor. “We’re just about ready, I think.”

“Thank god,” Hotch said. “You’re definitely ahead of the boys.”

“You didn’t see that coming?” JJ said, grinning. “Let me guess, Derek hasn’t packed anything and Spencer’s cranky.”

“Yeah, you got it,” he said. He looked from JJ in her ballet school tank top, Nike shorts, and sneakers to Penelope. “Hey, Pen…are you sure that’s what you want to wear?”

Penelope looked down at her floral print sundress and strappy sandals, then back up at him. “Yes, why?” she asked.

He gestured at her collection of impractical accessories- hair clips shaped like pandas, chunky bead bracelets, dangly earrings. “You do know it’s going to be a three hour long car ride and then three days of camping, right?” he said.

“Yes, why?”

JJ sighed. “Don’t worry, Hotch, I’m on it,” she said. “We’ll meet you downstairs in just a little bit.”

“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Penelope demanded.

Hotch backed away. “Yeah, I’ll let you handle it,” he said.

He jogged back up the stairs and knocked on the door. “Okay, you guys, how’s it going?” he asked, opening the door without waiting for them to answer.

Derek tossed a hoodie onto his pile in the middle of the floor; he was at least out of his pajamas and dressed in a St. Thaddeus football shirt and basketball shorts. “We’re getting there,” he said. “I’m almost packed.”

Hotch looked down at the pile. “Good luck getting all of that into your bag,” he said dryly. “Where’s Spencer?”

“Shower, I think,” Derek said. “He’s packed, though.”

Hotch picked up Spencer’s backpack easily, but the duffel bag offered more resistance. “Oh my god, what does he have in here, a dead body?”

“Probably books,” Derek said.

“Does he really need this many?” Hotch asked. Derek shrugged. “All right, fine. Hopefully we can get all of this to fit between the two cars. Just hurry up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Derek said, digging through his drawers.

Hotch stopped by his room to pick up his backpack, then carried everything down to the lobby. The girls were already there with their things; JJ had gotten Penelope to change into denim shortalls and a pink tee shirt, and her accessory collection had been reduced to a large ruffled scrunchie. “You guys ready?” Hotch asked.

JJ yawned. “Yeah,” she said. “Where’s the boys?”

“Derek’s still packing,” Hotch said. He pulled out his phone and checked the group chat. “James is in the parking lot, Dave’s almost here. Nothing from Alex or Emily, but I’m sure they’re up already.”

“Alex will be up, Emily probably snoozed her alarm six times,” Penelope said.

Something thumped down the stairs. “All right, we’re ready,” Derek called, dragging his bag down the steps. Spencer trailed behind him, his hair still damp and dripping on his NASA tee shirt. 

“You’re sure?” Hotch said. “Everybody has everything? Clothes, toothbrushes, pillows, blankets? James is bringing sleeping bags and air mattresses, but everybody should have their own stuff.” He turned to Spencer. “You have your blanket?”

Spencer’s face turned as red as his shorts. “I don’t need it,” he said.

Hotch frowned. “You’re sure?” he said. “But you-”

“I don’t need it, I can sleep without it,” Spencer said, crossing his arms. “Can we go?”

“Yeah, yeah, we probably should,” Hotch said. “Let’s go, everybody grab your stuff.”

Derek sidled up to him. “I packed the kid’s blanket,” he whispered. “It’s in my bag.”

“Oh, thank god.”

The sun was just barely beginning to peek over the horizon as they made it out of Lincoln House. Hotch hoisted Spencer’s bag of books on his shoulder. It was a long walk out to the parking lot, but James and Dave were both there, their cars parked next to each other. “Hey, y’all,” James called. “Who’s ready for a three-hour drive?”

Dave groaned. “Not me,” he said. 

“I have my license, you can let me drive,” Hotch said.

“You’ve only had your license for six months,” Dave said, patting the hood of his brand new Honda Pilot protectively. “She needs someone more experienced for a long haul. Maybe James will let you drive his shitbucket.”

“She’s not a shitbucket, she’s just…well loved,” James protested. “Besides, she’s got some…quirks. Really, nobody but me should be driving her.” He jiggled the latch of the hatchback and opened the trunk; his Nissan Versa was jam-packed with camping equipment and igloo coolers. “All right, toss your stuff in!”

“It’s nice of your parents to let us borrow all their camping stuff,” Penelope said. 

James took her bag. “Yeah, we’ve gone camping every summer for as long as I can remember,” he said. “Hope you guys are ready for this. I’m not too sure how Dave is going handle it.”

“I’ll be fine!” Dave said. He jabbed his thumb towards Alex and Emily as they crossed the parking lot towards them. “I’d be more worried about ‘poor little rich girl Prentiss’ over there.”

“What about me?” Emily asked. She wasn’t wearing her usual eyeliner and she’d traded her Docs for more sensible sneakers, but she still wore artfully ripped jeans and a red plaid flannel tossed over her black tank top. 

“Nothing,” Dave said quickly. “You guys ready?”

Alex handed over her bag; she’d swapped her usual librarian dresses for a sleeveless button up top tied at the waist, shorts, and hiking boots. “Definitely ready,” she said. “Have we decided who’s riding where?”

“Well, James and I are driving,” Dave said. “I claim Hotch as my copilot, you should be James’s.”

Alex shrugged. “Fine with me,” she said. “So everyone else is going with you?”

“I’m not sitting in the back middle!” JJ said, immediately tapping her finger to her nose.

“Nose goes!” Penelope said, and Emily and Derek copied her. “Ha! Spencer’s backseat middle.”

Spencer blinked. “Wait, I zoned out for a second,” he said. “What happened?”

“JJ and I went first, so we get the captain seats,” Penelope explained. “You’re sitting in the back with Derek and Emily, and you have to sit in the middle.”

“What? No!” he protested. “I want to ride with James and Alex.”

“No, there’s not enough room!” Emily said quickly. “And you’re the littlest and the youngest, anyway, you have to sit in the middle.”

Spencer scowled. “That’s not fair, we should do it again,” he said. “I don’t want to sit in the back middle.”

“Too late, caro, you lost,” Dave said. “Maybe you can ride somewhere else on the way home.” 

Alex cupped his chin in her hand and kissed his cheek. “Three hours isn’t that bad,” she said. “Read your books and take a nap.” He scowled.

“All right, come on, everybody, let’s go, let’s go, it’s past six already,” Hotch said. “Get in the car, we gotta go.”

They piled into Dave’s car, squishing Spencer between Derek and Emily in the back. “I don’t understand why I can’t ride with James and Alex,” he said. “I could have fit.”

JJ twisted around in her seat. “We need them to spend some time alone,” she explained. 

“Why?”

“Aren’t you tired of watching James pine after her?” Emily said. 

“Pine?”

“He’s had a crush on her for three and a half years and he’s yet to make a move,” Penelope said. “I made him an extremely romantic Spotify playlist. I hope it works.”

“Wait, James has a crush on Alex?” Spencer said. Derek shook his head.

Dave backed out of his parking space. “All right, once we get to Auden’s Ridge we’ll stop and get gas,” he said.

“And snacks?” Penelope asked hopefully.

“And snacks,” Dave said. “But after that we’ll drive straight through to Mammoth Cave. I don’t believe in stops.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that will happen,” Hotch said. “Have you met these kids?”

Dave tossed him his phone. “Just plug in the address to GPS and turn on the music, copilot,” he said.

The thirty-minute drive to town usually seemed long, but for once it went by quickly and Dave pulled up to a pump at the gas station. “Remember, we’re going to get actual food once we get the campsite set up and we can stop in town,” Hotch reminded them. “So don’t go too crazy.”

“Hotch, why are you even trying, you know they’re all going to buy their respective body weights in junk food,” Dave sighed.

Hotch sighed. “I know,” he said. 

He tried to stay fairly sensible with his choices, but the other kids returned to the car laden down with snacks. “Oh my god,” Dave said. “Listen, if you guys spill anything, I will murder you. I will.”

“Relax, spaghetti grandpa, it’ll be fine,” Penelope said as she plunked down in her captain’s chair and cracked her drink open. “We’re all very well-behaved.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Penelope,” he said. “Is that a Red Bull?”

She raised the can to her lips, regarding him over the rim. “Maybe,” she said, and she took a big swig.

“Oh, god, we’re all going to die,” Dave said. “Jennifer. If you get Cheeto dust anywhere, I will end you.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise!” 

Spencer struggled with the cap of his chocolate milk. “Can somebody open this for me?” he said. 

Derek opened it easily and handed it back. “There you go, noodle arms.”

“Hey!”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. “Guys, we haven’t even gotten back on the road yet,” he said.

“It’s gonna be a long trip,” Dave said. “All right, everybody, buckle up.”

The first hour passed by without incident, and Hotch was just starting to think that maybe this trip wouldn’t be so terrible when Emily leaned around JJ’s seat. “Hey, when are we stopping?” she asked.

“In an hour and forty-eight minutes, when we make it to the campsite,” Dave said, glancing at the GPS. “Why?”

“I have to pee,” she said.

“Ask Hotch.”

“Hotch, I have to pee, can we stop?” Emily asked.

“We just stopped, Prentiss,” he said. 

“I didn’t have to pee then,” she protested.

Spencer nudged her shoulder. “I’m trying to read and you’re covering the pages,” he complained.

Emily leaned farther. “Please can we stop?” she pressed.

“Maybe in a little bit,” Hotch said. “Just stop bothering Spencer.” Emily sat back with a scowl.

Derek wadded up his wrappers. “I wouldn’t mind stopping,” he said. “I’m out of snacks.”

“Jesus, Morgan,” Hotch said. “You ate all of that?”

“Yeah, and I’m still hungry,” he said.

“His trash is everywhere,” Spencer announced.

Derek thwacked his arm. “Don’t tattle!”

“I’m not tattling! I’m stating facts!”

“Stating facts just to get me in trouble!”

JJ glanced back. “No, Spencer’s right, it’s like a dumpster back here,” she said. 

“Clean it up!” Dave said.

Hotch twisted around in his seat. “Penelope, can you stop kicking the back of my seat?” he said.

“I can’t help it,” she said. “I have to move. My legs just keep shaking and I can’t stop it, I just have to move or I might possibly exploded.”

“This is why you can’t drink Red Bulls in the car,” Hotch said.

“Or ever,” JJ added. Emily stretched out and propped up her right foot on her armrest; JJ pushed it off. “Quit it, Emily.”

“I’m squished back here with Spencer and his entire library, let me stretch!”

“It’s my armrest!” Emily stomped on the base of JJ’s seatbelt; JJ let out a piercing pterodactyl screech. “Prentiss, what the fuck!” she screamed.

“Cut it out!” Hotch bellowed. 

They fell silent. Penelope’s leg stilled. Spencer turned a page.

“Dave’s trying to drive, stop screaming,” Hotch said. “Emily, leave JJ alone. JJ, no more dinosaur noises. Derek, pick up your trash, Penelope, stop kicking me. Spencer…you’re fine, just read your book.”

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. It was peaceful again, quiet except for Dave’s road trip playlist. Maybe now the kids would fall asleep until they made it to the campground.

“Hey, can we turn the air up?” Emily asked. 

“Yeah, it’s a little warm in here,” Derek added.

Dave fiddled with the dials. “Yeah, we can turn it up a little,” he said. “That better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Spencer frowned. “I’m cold,” he said.

“How can you be cold? You’re squished in between us?” Emily said.

“I’m always cold,” Spencer said. “And there’s a vent right above my head. Can we turn it down?”

“See, now you wish you had your blanket,” Derek grinned.

Spencer turned red. “I don’t need my blanket,” he grumbled.

“You can cuddle with me,” Emily said, throwing her arm around his shoulders. 

He pushed her arm away. “I don’t want to cuddle!” he said. “I’ll just freeze to death and read my book, okay?”

“How does someone so little get so angry?” Emily said.

“I’m not angry! I am stressed!” Spencer said.

“Stressed about what?” Derek asked.

“I’m sitting in the middle of your dumpster pile, and Prentiss is trying to cuddle me, and I’m very tired and I just want to read my book in peace!” Spencer said. “And you guys are squishing me!”  
  


“Prentiss, Morgan, stop pestering him,” Hotch said.

“If you guys don’t stop, I swear to god, I will turn this car around,” Dave said.

Penelope abruptly popped her seat back, leaning directly into Derek’s lap. “What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just got really carsick all of a sudden…”

“Okay, nobody is getting carsick in the new car,” Dave said. “Emily has to pee, Derek’s hungry, Penelope’s going to puke…Hotchner, text Alex and see if we can stop at a McDonalds or something.”

“Yeah!” Derek cheered.

“All right, all right, I’ll text her,” Hotch said. He glanced in the rearview mirror; Penelope’s eyes were closed but the rest of the kids seemed happy, except-

“Hey, Spence, what’s with the face?” 

Spencer scowled. “I ran out of books,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“All of them?”

“Yeah, I miscalculated how long it would take to get through all of them,” he said.

“Well, maybe you can sleep the rest of the way,” Hotch said.

“Yeah, then maybe you won’t be so grumpy,” Emily said.

“I’m not grumpy!”

Hotch checked his phone. “Yeah, James and Alex said they’re good to stop,” he said. “There’s a McDonalds coming up at the next exit.”

“Thank god, I need to get out of this car,” Penelope said fervently. “I’d be fine if it just wasn’t moving.”

James and Alex were already parked and waiting beside the car when they caught up. “How’s it going?” James asked. 

“You try shoving seven teenagers into an SUV,” Dave said. “Well, six teenagers and a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Spencer objected.

Alex laughed. “That bad, huh?” she said.

“Hotch used the dad voice on us,” JJ reported. 

“Oh, so it’s really bad.”

“Okay, you guys, stop,” Hotch said. “Let’s just go eat so we can get back in the car, okay?”

He was being optimistic, but he should have bargained on them taking their time ordering, he knew what he was getting into. Penelope had to be talked into ordering a Sprite to settle her stomach, Derek had to be talked out of getting a third breakfast sandwich, JJ tried to order six hashbrowns and nothing else, and Alex stopped Spencer from buying coffee and got him a hot chocolate instead.

Hotch settled for a hot coffee and an egg McMuffin and ate mostly in tired silence. “We don’t have too much longer to go,” James said, gathering up wrappers and empty cups and piling them onto a tray. “Hour and a half, maybe?”

“Yeah, and then we get to set up a tent and stay outside for three days,” Dave said. “I may have overestimated this trip.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun,” Alex said. “You guys will like camping. And this isn’t even really roughing it, they have real bathrooms at the campground.”

“I draw the line at shitting in the woods,” Dave said dryly. He checked his watch. “All right, kids, we should get back on the road. Emily- you better pee again, because I’m not stopping anymore.”

“All right, all right, I heard you,” she said, getting up from the table. “Come on, Garcia, if you’re going to puke, now’s the time.”

“No, I’m okay,” Penelope said. “But I’m never drinking Red Bull in a car again. Ever.”

“Thank god,” Hotch said. 

“Alex, do you have any books I could borrow?” Spencer asked. “I finished mine.”

“I’m afraid not, darling,” she said. “You really read all of yours already?” He nodded. “Ah, you miscalculated.”

James fished his phone out of his pocket. “Here, you can borrow this,” he said. “We’re using Alex’s phone for the GPS and music so I’m not using mine. Play games or something?”  
  


“Games?” he repeated skeptically.

Penelope snatched it out of his hand. “Not to worry, I know just the one,” she said. “James, can I download him something? Don’t worry, it’s a free one.”

“Yeah, go for it,” he said. 

Hotch picked Spencer up out of his chair and set him on his feet. “What was that for?” he complained.

“You weren’t moving, and we need to get back on the road,” he said. He brushed Spencer’s hair off his forehead. “How much sleep did you get last night?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “An hour and a half, two hours maybe?”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re in such a bad mood today,” Hotch said. He caught Derek’s eye; Derek shot him a thumbs up back. He propelled Spencer forward. “Come on, let’s go.”

They got back into the car slowly this time, everyone full and a little sleepy. Spencer climbed into his middle seat without an argument, James’s phone clutched in his hand. “You really need to try to take a nap,” Hotch told him. “You can’t function on two hours of sleep.” Spencer sighed and his lower lip dropped in a pout, but he didn’t say anything. 

Derek tossed Spencer’s favorite blanket at him. “Since you said you were cold,” he said. 

He brightened. “You packed it anyway?”

“Hell yeah I did,” Derek said. “I know you think it’s babyish, but seriously, kid, nobody cares. We care more about you being in a bad mood from not sleeping.”

Spencer hesitated, then accepted the soft ivory blanket, hugging it to his chest. Derek climbed up into the seat beside him and buckled his seatbelt. 

Penelope leaned forward in her seat. “Dave, can we please play something a little more exciting?” she wheedled. “I made you a showtunes playlist.”

“Please, no,” Dave said as he navigated the car back onto the interstate.

“I worked so hard to make it!” she said.

“Let her listen to it at least for a while,” Hotch said. “I mean…she did work hard to make it.” 

Dave sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But you’re not allowed to sing along.”

She sang along, loudly and with great passion. 

Luckily, the chaos in the car had begun to settle. Spencer played games on James’s phone, frowning in concentration, while Derek put on his headphones and Emily leaned her head back to take a nap. JJ just stared sleepily out the window, watching the hills roll by.

It was just past eleven when they pulled into the campsite behind James’s hatchback; the backseat occupations had begun to perk up, although Penelope was still singing along to the Hamilton cast recording. “All right, everybody, we’re here,” Hotch said. “Who’s ready to put up tents?”

“Not Spencer,” Derek said. The youngest of their group was fast asleep, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder, his blanket clutched his his chest and James’s phone threatening to slip from his grip. Derek gave him a gentle nudge and pried the phone from his hand. “Hey, pretty boy, we made it.”

“Don’t wake him up,” Hotch warned. 

“Okay, but I have to get out of the car too,” Emily said.

Hotch beckoned Alex over. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Can you get him?”

Alex peeked into the backseat. “Oh, no,” she smiled. “Okay, Derek, you get out first. Try not to- oh, never mind.”

Derek jostled him on his way out of the car and Spencer raised his head, blinking sleepily. “Sorry, pretty boy,” he said.

Alex leaned towards him. “Hi, we made it,” she said softly. “Do you want to get out of the car? You can go right back to sleep.”

He nodded, unclicking the seatbelt and climbing over to her with a barely concealed yawn. Hotch helped him out and he wrapped his arms around Alex’s neck, allowing her to pick him up. “Oh, baby, it’s okay,” she said, rubbing his back as he mumbled sleepily into her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m tired too, does this get me out of setting up the tent?” Emily asked.

“Absolutely not,” Hotch said. “Get out of the car.”

“I want someone to carry me and tell me I can take a nap.”

“Prentiss, I swear to god. Get out of the car.”


	20. fireflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anonymous: "Oooo!!! Little brain worm while I was sitting outside like two minutes ago watching lightningbugs!! But like the Patron Saints team teaching baby Spencer about catching lightningbugs cause he's never had a real childhood and his little science brain is getting so excited over holding these little bugs!!"

“So you want me to catch bugs and put them in a jar?”

“No, god, Emily, it sounds weird when you say it like that,” Penelope huffed.

Emily gave the mason jar a shake. “But that’s what you want me to do,” she said, perplexed.

“Come on, Em, you’ve never caught fireflies before?” JJ said. She glanced over at Spencer wrestling with the lid of his jar. “I mean, him I understand. But you’ve never done it?”

“This may come as a surprise, but the ambassador was not fond of any activity that might result in running, loud noises, or getting dirty,” Emily said. “What do you do once you catch them?”

“You admire them for a while, and then you let them go,” Hotch said.

“That’s all?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Derek said. He unscrewed the lid of Spencer’s jar and handed it back to him. “You ready?” 

Emily sighed. “I don’t think you’re going to give me a choice,” she said. She glanced back at the three oldest kids sitting under the trees. “Unless one of you guys want to talk them out of this.”

“Not a chance, Prentiss,” Alex called back. “Go play nice with the other children.”

Dave got up from the grass. “I’ll go show her how it’s done,” he said. “I used to be really good at this.”

“You mean competitive,” James said.

“I have twenty-seven cousins, second cousins, and cousins that probably aren’t related but might as well be,” Dave shrugged. “You have to be competitive in my family, or else.”

James laughed and leaned back on his elbows. It was the nicest night they’d had in a while, the air soft and warm as the stars started to pick up in the darkening sky. The fireflies were just beginning to wake up, flickering in little pinpoints. The other kids made silhouettes against the dark blue, fireflies winking around them. Dave lectured Emily on proper technique whie she rolled her eyes; Derek and Hotch helped Spencer chase the bugs down.

He glanced at Alex beside him, squinting at her book. “It’s probably too dark to read, you know,” he said.

“I do know, I just got to a good part,” she sighed.

He sat up, fumbling for his phone, and held it over her book as he switched on the flashlight. “Better?” he asked.

She smiled. “My hero,” she said.

“Any time,” he said.

Her soft hair spilled over her shoulders; he wrapped the ends of a lock around his finger. She glanced up at him from under her lashes. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

He let her hair slip through his fingers. “Well, I was thinking that maybe-”

Spencer hurtled over to them, hugging a jar to his chest. “I caught one!” he said. He flung himself into Alex’s lap and held it up in triumph. “See?”

James drew back, hiding a laugh behind his hand. “Yes, darling, I see,” she said. She set her book aside and drew him up to sit better. 

Spencer squinted at the insect inside. “You know, the terms firefly and lightning bug are technically interchangeable, it depends on regional dialects, but actually there’s dozens of varieties,” he said. “And some regions even call them glowworms, but they’re not really the same, there’s actually two main subcategories of glowworms. Beetles and fungus gnats.”

“That’s, um…that’s pretty cool, Spence,” James said.

Spencer held the jar up in front of his face, watching the bug blink on and off. “Do you think I could keep it?” he asked. “Just a little longer. I want to observe it in daylight.”

“Probably not,” Alex said, smoothing his hair. “I think you’ll need to let him go.”

Spencer pouted in disappointment. “You should listen to Alex, she’s-” James cleared his throat. “She’s, uh, usually right about these kinds of things.”

Spencer pulled away and frowned, looking from Alex to James. “You guys are acting funny,” he said. His eyes went wide. “Oh! Were you going to kiss her?”

James leaned back, feeling his neck heat up in embarrassment. “Oh!” he said. “Uh…no. I mean, that wasn’t…”

“I was pretty sure he was about to kiss me,” Alex said.

“Or I might crawl into a hole and die, that’s always an option,” James stammered.

Spencer scrambled off of Alex’s lap. “Don’t mind me, I was never here,” he said, running back to join the other kids.

James stared at the ground. Alex poked him lightly in the arm. “I thought you were going to kiss me, Blake,” she said.

“No, I’m hoping the earth will open and swallow me up,” he said. “This…this wasn’t what I planned, I’ve been waiting-”

He felt Alex lean closer, her hair falling against his shoulder, and her lips brushed lightly against his. “You say that like I haven’t been waiting,” she said, and he smiled, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing her again.

“Guys! He did it!” 

“Are you shitting me?”

“God, I thought it would never happen.”

Alex laughed. “I think everyone’s been waiting,” she said. 

“All right, who had money on two weeks before prom, and Alex kissing first?”

“Me!”

“ _Dammit_ , Blake, if you’d waited just _one_ more week…”


	21. "who left Prentiss in charge?"

“Okay, okay, I think this time I can make all the way down without having to put my hands down,” Derek said, running back up to the top of the stairs.

“Guys, are you sure this is a good idea?” Penelope asked.

JJ tightened her ponytail. “You’re just saying that because you haven’t stuck a single landing!” she called from the top of the stairs.

Penelope stamped her foot. “I’m just saying that this seems really risky!” she said. “What would would the seniors say if they were here? Or Hotch?”

“Hotch wouldn’t know anything fun if it bit him on the ass,” Emily said. “And you know Dave and James would be trying this out. And it’s not that dangerous. You should have seen the staircase in the Ukrainian embassy. Now that was dangerous.”

“What would Alex say?” Penelope said desperately. “She’d think this is a bad idea.”

“Relax, baby girl, it’s fine,” Derek said, hanging over the railing. “You don’t have to do it. I mean, neither is Spencer.”

Spencer glanced up from his book. “Hm?” he said. “Did you say something to me?”

He ruffled Spencer’s hair. “Just that you and Penelope are sitting out on the fun stuff,” he said.

“Yeah, she’s a scaredy-cat, and you’re too little,” Emily said.

“I’m not a scaredy-cat, I’m being safe and sensible,” Penelope said.

Spencer’s mouth dropped open. “I’m not that little!” he said. “You guys think I’m a baby, and I’m not!”

“We know you’re not a baby, you’re just small,” Derek reassured him.

“I’ve grown a little bit!”

“You’re like…four and a half feet tall.”

Spencer slammed his book shut and scrambled to his feet. “Just because I’m small for my age doesn’t mean I’m not physically capable of keeping up with you guys,” he said, irritated.

“No offense, Spence, but I’m in gym class with you, I know what you’re capable of,” JJ said.

“She’s right, you run like a baby giraffe,” Penelope added.

Spencer crossed his arms. “Well, giraffes can run up to thirty miles an hour, so I don’t think your comparison is particularly valid,” he said. 

“We ran the mile yesterday. It took you seventeen minutes.”

He thrust his book into JJ’s hands. “I’m going to slide down this stupid banister, and then you guys have to stop picking on me,” he said. 

“Deal,” Emily said. “But if you don’t make it all the way to the bottom, then you have to do my trig homework for the next two weeks.”

“Deal,” Spencer said. He struggling to swing his leg over the side of the banister, but he managed to pull himself up.

“Oh, I’m not watching this,” Penelope said, taking off her lime green glasses. “If he breaks something, Alex and Hotch are going to murder you.”

“Relax, Pen,” Emily said. “He’ll give up less than halfway down. I’m positive.”

Spencer hesitated, holding on tightly to the railing. “Kid, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Derek said. “We’ll stop teasing you about being little, we promise.”

“I don’t!” Emily called. “Come on, Dr. Reid, do it! I have a lot of trig homework coming up!”

Even from the bottom of the stairs she could see him scowl. He let go of the railing.

To her surprise, he didn’t give up, or inch his way down hesitantly. He slid down, a lot faster than she expected, and he managed to get all the way down to the ground. Except he didn’t land easily, he slammed into the hardwood floor.

“Oh my god!” JJ shrieked.

“No, no, he’s fine,” Emily said. “Right, Spencer?”

Spencer pushed himself to sit up, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Uh,” he said. He rubbed his eyes. “That counts, right? You guys have to stop teasing me now.”

“Well, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Emily said. “You didn’t stick the landing, so I think we should compromise with one week of trig.”

“No, no, I remember, you specifically said if I made it to the bottom, you didn’t say anything about sticking the landing,” Spencer shot back.

Penelope slid her glasses back on. “You’re okay, right?” she said.

“Uh-huh, I’m fine,” Spencer said.

“So…can you get up?” Penelope asked. 

He started to push himself up and immediately dropped back down. “I’ll get up in a second,” he said.

“No, I think I’d feel better if you got up now,” Penelope said.

Spencer fidgeted. “Just a second,” he said.

JJ leaned over the railing. “Is he okay?” she called.

“I’m fine!” he shouted back. “I just want to sit here for a little while!”

Emily walked over and bent over him. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” she asked. He shook his head. She held out her hand. “C’mon. You can do it.”

Spencer sighed heavily and took her hand. He raised himself up a few inches, then grabbed her wrist, pulling himself up with both hands. Emily caught his arm and he wobbled. “Thanks,” he said in a small voice. “I think I’m retiring from my career as a professional banister-slider.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” she said. “You can let go of my hand now.” He obeyed and she pulled out her phone to check the time. “Hey, the dining hall just opened for lunch. You guys ready?”

This whole being in charge thing wasn’t too terrible. Saturdays were usually pretty quiet on campus already, and Hotch was off doing RA things (she didn’t press for details, it sounded boring) and the seniors were at an all-day college admission seminar. It was kind of nice to be in charge without them.

The dining hall was a ghost town, making it a lot easier to go down the line and make it to their table without having to fight a sea of other people. She plunked her tray down and paused. “Hey, are you not eating?” she asked.

Spencer was sitting in his usual seat, but he was unusually quiet. “I’m not very hungry,” he said. 

“You need to eat something,” she said. “What do you want?”

He folded his arms on the table. “Nothing,” he said, resting his chin on his forearms. “I’m just not hungry.”

Emily patted his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Does your stomach hurt?”

He rolled his shoulder, shaking off her hand. “No,” he said shortly. “I’m just not hungry.”

JJ dropped her tray next to Emily. “You’re not going to tell the others that I’m just eating cheetos and three chocolate pudding cups, right?” she asked.

Emily gestured towards her plate. “Not if you don’t tell them that I’m just eating muffins.”

“Deal.”

“So what’s the plan for movie night tonight?” Derek asked as he and Penelope took their seats.

“Not sure,” Emily said, tearing off a chunk of her blueberry muffin and popping it into her mouth. “Whose turn is it to pick?”

“Mine!” Penelope said. “I’m thinking something in the animated musical category.”

“You’re always thinking something in the animated musical category,” JJ said. She paused. “Spence, are you not going to eat anything?”

“Not hungry,” he mumbled into his folded arms.

“I think I might pick Cats Don’t Dance,” Penelope said. “It’s a classic. Underrated.”

“You say that about every movie you pick.”

Emily leaned over to Spencer as the other kids continued to bicker. “Hey,” she whispered. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He turned his head so she could see one hazel eye. “Nothing’s going on,” he whispered back.

“Oh, yeah?” she said. “Then go get something to eat, okay? I don’t want Hotch and Alex finding out I didn’t feed you. I don’t care what it is, just eat something. Come on, let’s go.”

He sat up. “Please don’t make me,” he said. 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He bit his lip. “Nothing,” he said, and he pushed his chair back from the table. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and immediately fell back into his chair. 

“Whoa, what was that?” Emily demanded. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Spencer hunched in his chair. “It’s nothing,” he said again.

“I thought I heard a crack when you fell,” Penelope accused. “What did you do? Did you break something?”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. “I just hit the ground a little funny,” he said. “Can you guys stop staring at me?”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Stand up,” she said.

Spencer scowled, slapped his palms down on the table, and forced himself up to his feet. “See?” he said. “I’m fine.”

“Let go of the table,” Emily said. He raised his hands in surrender and made a face at her. “Now take six steps that way.” Spencer swallowed hard and took a hesitant step. “That’s one. Keep going.”

He took another step, heavy and limping, and caught himself on the back of a chair. “Whoa, pretty boy,” Derek said. 

Spencer leaned heavily on the chair, all of his weight on his right leg. “Was that six steps?” he asked.

“One and a half,” Emily said. “Spill, munchkin. What are you not telling us?”

Spencer flushed pink. “You said you would stop treating me like a baby!” he said. “It’s the whole reason I did this to myself!”

“Did what?”

“What did you do?”

He huffed loudly and dropped into the chair. “I just fell weird on my ankle, okay?” he said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Emily moved her chair around. “Which one?”

“…left.”

She beckoned and he reluctantly stretched out his leg, sliding down in his chair and gripping the side of the seat to keep his balance. “Holy shit, kiddo,” she said. 

“What?” Derek said, standing up and craning his neck to get a better look. 

“It’s nothing!” Spencer protested.

“Spence, your ankle is swollen,” Emily said. She loosened the laces of his left sneaker. His ankle had ballooned to twice its normal size. “Oh, fuck. Spencer, it might be broken.”

“What?” JJ demanded.

“Maybe it’s just sprained!” Spencer said. He gulped. “Although it’s sometimes possible that a clean break is easier to heal than a bad sprain…”

“Why would you share that? It’s not helpful!” Penelope said.

“I don’t know! I don’t know why I said that!”

“Yeah, that made it worse!”

“Okay, okay, you guys, cut it out,” Emily said. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, god, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Ha, you look like Hotch when you’re stressed,” Derek said.

“God, please don’t say that,” Emily said. “Okay. Spencer, we’re going to have to take you to the infirmary and get checked out.”  
  


“No!” he protested.

“No buts,” Emily said firmly. “Let’s go. I will fucking carry you if I have to.”

“Should I text Hotch and Alex?” Penelope asked.

“No!” Emily said. “No, I’ve got it. I’ve got it.” She looked down at Spencer. “Unless you want me to text them?”

Spencer bit his lip. “No, it’s fine,” he said. “It’s not that bad- ow!” She caught him as he wobbled. “Okay, that hurt. That really, really hurt.”

“I’m texting them,” Penelope announced.

Emily bent over Spencer, wrapping her arms tight around him. “Okay, babe, one thing at a time,” she said. “Let’s get you to the infirmary. You want me to carry you?”

Spencer rubbed his eyes. “You’d better not drop me,” he said warily.

She only dropped him once.

After that, he insisted that it didn’t really hurt that bad, and he could probably make it if he just leaned on her. It was slow going to get to the school infirmary, and it was a huge relief to hand him over to the nurse practitioner. 

It was touch and go for a moment as they debated if they needed to send him into town for X-rays at the local hospital (which _really_ made Spencer upset) but after some deliberation and painful probing of his swollen ankle, they determined it was a bad sprain, but nothing broken. They wrapped up his ankle and sent him on his way with crutches, ice packs, and stern instructions to rest.

Derek and the girls were waiting on the front steps of Lincoln House. “What’s the verdict?” JJ called.

“Sprain,” Emily called back, keeping her pace slow as Spencer hobbled beside her on his crutches. “Is Hotch back from-”

Hotch opened the doors and stood on the steps, his arms crossed. “What did you do?” he demanded.

“He’s fine, don’t look at me like that,” Emily said. 

“Yeah, she took care of me,” Spencer said, huffing with exertion as he wobbled on his crutches.

“You caused this in the first place,” Hotch said. He jogged down the steps. “They’re sure he doesn’t need to go to the emergency room?”

“No, no, I don’t, I’m okay,” Spencer insisted.

Hotch took his crutches from him and handed them to Emily, then scooped him up. “How do you make that look so easy?” Emily complained.

“Yeah, she dropped me,” Spencer said.

Hotch whipped around and glared at her. “You did what?”

“It’s fine, he didn’t land on his bad ankle!” Emily said. “I only dropped him a little bit. I’m closer to the ground than you are.”

“Jesus, Prentiss,” Hotch sighed. “

He carried Spencer inside and up the seven flights of stairs; Emily trailed behind him. “Really, Hotch, it was an accident,” she said. “And he’s fine, no harm done. Don’t murder me.”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about me,” Hotch said. “Miller’s waiting upstairs.”

Emily swallowed hard. 

* * *

Spencer wrapped his arms tighter around Hotch’s neck and rested his chin on his shoulder. It was a long haul to get up to the seventh floor, and even though he was still attempting to prove to the older kids that he wasn’t a baby, he was grateful that he didn’t have to walk it. And if he was being truthful, he was glad that Hotch was carrying him instead of Emily. He loved Emily, he did, but Hotch was a lot stronger and bigger, and a lot less likely to drop him.

“Listen, Hotch, it was just an accident,” Emily pleaded, trailing behind them on the stairs.

Hotch pressed his hand against Spencer’s narrow back. “I don’t care if it was an accident, Prentiss, it was stupid,” he said sharply. “Stupid and childish. You’re seven years older than him, you should fucking know better.”

He couldn’t quite see Emily’s expression, but she slowed her pace, falling far back behind them. “Hotch, she didn’t do it on purpose,” he said quietly. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“We’ll talk about you later,” Hotch said. Spencer bit back a sigh. 

Alex was pacing in the seventh floor common room, her arms folded over her chest, still wearing the nice blue dress she’d worn for the senior’s seminar. “Oh my god,” she said, her arms dropping to her sides. “Spencer, are you okay?”

“It could be worse,” he offered. 

“That’s not reassuring.”

Hotch set him gently down on the couch, careful around his injured ankle. “It’s a bad sprain, but it’s not broken,” he said. 

“He hit the ground _so_ hard,” Derek said. 

“Yeah, I definitely heard a crack,” Penelope added.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” Alex said. “How bad does it hurt?”

He shrugged. “Not too much,” he said, offering her what he hoped was a winning smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

Alex made a face at him and started signing instead. _Are you lying to me?_

He squirmed and signed back a no.

 _Be honest,_ she signed. _How bad?_

Spencer sighed heavily. _An eight, maybe?_

His ankle really did hurt, the numbness from adrenaline long worn off, but he didn’t want to say anything that might make Emily feel bad. But he’d learned the hard way that it was impossible to lie to Alex; she was the only one who could see right through him every time.

Alex’s expression softened. “I’m sure you’ll feel better soon,” she said, smoothing his hair back. “But you have to rest, okay? Actually rest. No getting up and walking around and saying you’re fine when you’re not.”

Hotch tossed Spencer’s favorite blanket at him. “What she said,” he said. “You’re not moving until classes on Monday morning. And even then, if you’re not doing better, you’re not going to class.”

“But I have a history paper due Monday!” he protested.

“I’ll stop by your class and turn it in for you,” JJ offered.

“See? There you go,” Derek said. “And we’ll pick up all your homework for you.”

“I’ll be able to go to classes on Monday, I know it,” he said.

“Rest first, then we’ll see,” she said. “Don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting,” he said, his lower lip dropping. 

Hotch tapped his chin. “Stop that,” he said. He propped his injured ankle up on a pillow and draped an ice pack over it. “These are the consequences of your reckless actions. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. 

“It wasn’t his fault, I…I kept teasing him,” Emily said. 

Alex didn’t answer her. “Did they give you ibuprofen or anything at the infirmary?” she asked. 

“Yeah, and I can take more in a couple of hours,” he said. 

Penelope leaned over the back of the couch. “It’s my turn to pick for movie night, but do you want to pick, Spencer?” she asked. 

“No, don’t let him pick again!” Derek said. “I am not in the mood for Star Wars.”

“I don’t always pick Star Wars!” Spencer said. “Besides, there’s eleven films and a holiday special to choose from. That’s a lot of variety, right? More if you include the two Ewok films.”

“Spencer, don’t you dare make us watch the holiday special again.”

“Fine,” he said. “I want to watch Singin’ in the Rain.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I thought if Penelope wasn’t gonna pick, I wouldn’t have to watch a musical,” he said. JJ smacked his arm. “Hey!”

“All right, all right, cut it out,” Hotch said. “Who’s getting snacks tonight?”

“I’ll order pizza,” Emily offered. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

Derek pumped his fists in the air. “Yes! Okay, I have some requests,” he said.

The other kids immediately started squabbling about pizza toppings. Spencer reached out and tugged lightly on Alex’s skirt. She turned around in confusion before looking down at him. “What’s wrong, Spence?” she asked. 

“Can you sit with me?” he asked quietly.

She blinked, a little puzzled. “Of course I can,” she said. She tilted her head to the side. “Are you all right? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, I’m okay, I just…” He gave up midsentence and shrugged. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words. But Alex seemed to understand. She sat down on the couch beside him and he leaned against her shoulder, huddling under her arm. 

“Okay, you guys, enough! Stop fighting!” Hotch said. He picked up JJ around her waist and forcibly moved her away from Derek and Penelope. “We’re going to get what we usually get. Derek, if you really want that abomination of a pizza that badly, you can pay Emily back for it yourself.”

“No, it’s fine, you guys get whatever you want,” Emily said. 

“Well, in that case, I-”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. “Somebody just put in the movie, okay?” he said.

“I got it, I got it,” JJ said.

Spencer shifted around, trying to get comfortable as she started the movie. Even without an eidetic memory, he could probably recite the whole thing backwards and forwards. It was one of the movies his mother had on constant rotation when he was little, background noise while she graded papers- so, overall, mostly good memories. 

By the time pizza got there he was actually hungry- unlike lunchtime, when he was so focused on keeping his hurt ankle a secret that he couldn’t possibly eat. JJ brought him his plate, and Hotch took off the mostly-melted icepacks to check if the swelling had gone down at all (it hadn’t, and purple bruising had crept above the line of the bandages) and gave him more ibuprofen and a glass of water with strict instructions to drink all of it.

When the first movie was over, he let Penelope choose the second one, which turned into another squabble, but eventually she picked something else. He watched quietly, still leaning against Alex. Every so often he flexed his left foot, trying to see how much effort it took to move his ankle. 

Alex tapped his knee. “Stop that,” she chided gently. 

“I’m just testing it,” he said.

“You’re not a science experiment. Stop trying to see how much it hurts.”

“I’m okay.”

She lifted him onto her lap. “Nope, no more,” she said. “Sit still.”

“I’m not a baby,” he protested as he tucked his cheek against her shoulder. 

Alex wrapped her arms around him. “I know you’re not a baby,” she said. “Now what did I say about resting?”

Spencer obeyed, curling up against her and hugging his blanket to his chest. He had gone a long, long time without anyone willing or able to take care of him- or allowing anyone to take care of him, for that matter. It was kind of nice to have his friends fuss over him. And Alex cuddled him without making a big fuss about it, or making him feel stupid or childish. 

He was almost asleep by the time the second movie finished, his breathing deep and slow and his head resting heavily on Alex’s shoulder. But he was still awake enough to hear Hotch whisper-scold the other kids as he switched off the TV, telling them it was _late_ and they _needed_ to go to bed but they _better_ not wake Spencer.

“Emily, wait here for a second,” Alex called softly. 

Spencer kept feigning sleep as the other kids filed out of the common room and Emily sat down heavily on the other end of the couch. “All right, Miller,” she said. “Go ahead. Tear me a new one. This is all my fault.”

“No, I’m not going to tear you a new one,” Alex said. “You’ve been beating yourself up all day already, I’m not going to make it worse.”

“God, can you just not be so perceptive for once?” Emily said. “Just yell at me and get it over with.”

“I’m not going to yell. I don’t want to startle Spencer,” Alex said. Emily snorted. “And besides, I don’t want to yell at you.”

Emily groaned. “I deserve to be yelled at,” she said glumly. “Hotch is right, I should have known better.”

“I mean…yeah, technically,” Alex said. She ran her hand lightly up and down Spencer’s back. “But…okay. This is going to be kind of blunt. When have you ever had someone to be responsible for? Somebody to care about?”

Emily was quiet for a moment. “Well, I mean…my mom…”

“Emily. I’ve heard you talk about your mom. You call her the Ambassador. She enrolled you in first year French because she didn’t remember you were fluent. She makes you call her every Sunday, but half the time it goes to voicemail because she’s busy.”

A longer silence. “All right, so my mom isn’t the best,” Emily said. “What does that have to do with me being an idiot and getting Spencer hurt?”

“My point is that you’ve never had to worry about anybody but yourself before,” Alex said. “You’re a good person, Emily, you’re a really good person. And I know you care a whole lot about all of us. You’ve just never had to learn how to take care of anybody.”

“Okay, now you’ve passed regular perceptive and into _super_ perceptive,” Emily said, but Spencer could hear the hint of a smile in her voice. “Yeah, I guess…I guess you’re not wrong. I hadn’t thought about that before.”

“You’re getting there, though,” Alex said. “I mean, you were the one who took care of Spencer when he got hurt, before you could hand him off to us.”

“That’s true.”

“And in the meantime, you don’t have to be so tough and pretend like you don’t care about anything. You don’t have to act like nothing bothers you.”

“Nothing does bother me, Alexandra, what are you talking about?” Emily teased. Alex poked her in the side. “All right, all right, fine. Jesus. I guess you’re right, at least about some of that.” 

“I’m right sometimes, about some things,” Alex laughed. “And besides, let’s be real. All of these kids are kind of a handful. Especially this kid. This could have happened with any of us in charge.”

“I haven’t spent any time with a ten-year-old before Spencer,” Emily said. “So they’re not all like this?”

“Oh, god, no,” Alex said. She reached over and squeezed Emily’s arm. “Really, Em, I know you didn’t mean for him to get hurt. And he knows too. If he wasn’t pretending to be asleep, he’d tell you that too.”

“He’s faking? How can you tell?”

“He’s not snoring.”

Spencer opened one eye. “I wasn’t faking,” he protested, struggling to sit up. “I was sleeping. And I don’t snore.”

“No, yeah, you kind of do,” Emily said. “Cute little kitten snores.” He rolled his eyes, but she took his hand in both of hers. “Can you please tell me you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, I promise,” he said. “A mild sprain can heal in one to three weeks. Maybe six weeks for a moderate sprain. I’ll live.”

She squeezed his hand. “Okay, cool, can you tell that to Hotchner?” she said. “I don’t think he’s quite so willing to forgive me.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Alex promised. “He might hold a grudge, but I’ll get over it, I promise.”

Suddenly Emily leaned over and pulled Spencer into a hug. “You know I love you, right, babe?” she said.

“I know,” he said, startled. The hug was definitely a little too tight, but he had the sneaking suspicion that, just like him, she wasn’t used to having people care. “I love you, Em.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Just wanted to make sure,” she said, letting go and pulling back from him. “It’s late, you probably need to go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” Alex said. “Come on, let’s go.”

It was slow going for him to hobble to his room and change into his pajamas, and by the time he was done he actually was kind of tired. Hotch stuck his head in his room as Alex was helping him climb into bed. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Spencer huffed as he fell back against his pillow.

“How’s your ankle?”

“Also fine,” Spencer said. Hotch didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll stay off it all day tomorrow, I promise.”

“Yeah, you’d better,” Hotch said. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Hey, Hotch?” he called, and Hotch doubled back and leaned in the doorway. “Can you be nice to Emily, please? She already feels bad about everything. She didn’t mean it.”

“I make no promises,” Hotch said. “But…I’ll try. Goodnight, Spencer. Get some sleep.”

“You think he’ll actually be nice to Emily?” Spencer asked.

“We’ll see,” Alex said. “Lie down.”

He obeyed. “Goodnight, Alex,” he said as she tucked him in snugly.

She swept his hair back and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, darling,” she said. “Sleep tight.”

He snuggled under the covers. His ankle didn’t hurt as sharply as it did earlier, and his favorite blanket was soft and reassuring against his cheek. Alex switched on his little nightlight, and he was asleep before she closed the door.


	22. drunk Alex

Alex wrestled her blazer off and threw it on the floor with an uncharacteristic amount of effort. “Fuck midterms,” she said fervently. 

“You said it,” Emily said, kicking the door closed with her heel and tossing her backpack on her bed. “Thank god that’s over. Now everybody can stop whining about them, and we can get on with our lives.”

“Well, no, now we get to stress about what grades we got on them,” Alex sighed. She pulled the elastic out of her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair. “God, it’s going to be a long weekend.”

Emily was half out of uniform already, her button up shirt replaced with a black crop top, but she stopped. “Oh! I’ve got something that will take your mind off things,” she grinned. She rummaged under her bed, moving things around until she emerged with a white carton in her hands. “Aha!”

Alex froze. “Emily Prentiss, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” she said. “You bought-” She glanced around and then dropped her voice even quieter. “You bought _alcohol_?”

“Not really, it’s just white claws,” Emily shrugged. “There’s like…no alcohol in these.”

“What is wrong with you?” Alex hissed. “We are underage! This is…this is illegal! We could get expelled!”

“Relax,” Emily said. “With your record, you’ll get a slap on the wrist at the most. You could tell them I told you it was a LaCroix and you believed me.”

Alex frowned. “What about you?”

“This is nothing compared to the shit I pulled back home in Italy. I’ll be fine.”

“What if we get caught?” Alex said. “Seriously, if Elle happened to stop by-”

“What about Elle?”

Alex turned around with a shriek. Elle stood in the doorway, Emily’s keychain dangling from her fingertip in disdain. “Prentiss, you keep leaving your keys in the lock. You’ve got to remember at some point,” she said. She tossed the keychain to Emily; Emily still held the white claw carton and the keys fell to the floor. “What the fuck are you two doing with those?”

Alex went pale. “We just…she just…I didn’t…”

“I’ll give you one if you don’t tattle,” Emily offered.

Elle’s eyes narrowed. “Give me two black cherries and we’ll call it even,” she said.

“You drive a hard bargain, ma’am,” Emily said, but she opened the carton and tossed two cans at Elle.

“Thanks,” Elle said, catching them easily. “Make wise choices, ladies.”

She closed the door and Alex let out a long half-strangled exhale. “Oh my god, I thought my heart was going to stop beating,” she sighed.

“See? We’re fine,” Emily reassured her. “We’ll binge watch some mindless TV, we’ll eat shitty junk food, and we’ll have a drink or two. It’ll be a nice night, and everything will be fine. Trust me.”

“Why does you saying ‘trust me’ make me more worried?” Alex said.

Emily scrambled to her feet, picked up a can, and cracked it open. “Here, try this one,” she said.

Alex took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “What fruit is that supposed to be?” she asked.

“Oh, shit, sorry, that’s grapefruit,” Emily said. She picked up another can. “Try this one. You strike me as a raspberry kind of girl.”

Alex sighed, but took a sip. “That’s not as bad,” she said. “That actually tastes like something.”

“See? I told you,” Emily said. “Just take it easy for a while, okay? You’ve been so uptight this week I thought you might explode.”

“All right, all right, fine,” Alex said. “Just one, I guess. That shouldn’t be too bad.”

They had barely gotten into pajams and gotten through the opening titles of their chosen TV show of the evening when Alex frowned and gave her can a little shake. “Oh, it’s empty,” she said. 

Emily flashed her a shit-eating grin. “See? I told you you’d like it,” she said. “Super chill. Absolutely fine.”

“Yeah, that was nice, I guess,” Alex said. 

“You want another one?” Emily said. “There’s one black cherry left, and I’m willing to share it with you.”

Alex hesitated. “Yeah, maybe one more,” she said. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere tonight or anything.”

“Hell yeah!” Emily said, tossing her the can. “Maybe the next time I talk Dave into driving me to another party with the public school kids you can come with us.”

Alex snorted. “Absolutely not,” she said. “When I’m telling my children cautionary tales about underage drinking in boarding school, this will be the worst thing that I tell them. Slowly drinking two white claws while I watch a baking competition in my pajamas.”

“Ooh, slow down, Miller, you might be too cool,” Emily laughed. “You enjoy that second White Claw. You’ve earned it.”

In retrospect, she should have kept a better eye on Alex. On the other hand, Alex was usually so level-headed and responsible it hurt, and this was not the outcome she’d expected.

They were halfway through the second episode when she heard the small sniffle. Emily slowly lowered her can. “Are you okay?” she asked.

She turned around to see Alex wiping at her eyes. She hadn’t taken off her makeup and her mascara and eyeliner made dark puddles under her lashes. “His gingerbread house fell apart,” she said. 

“Yeah, he fucked up his royal icing,” Emily said.

“But it’s so sad.”

Emily sat up. “Alex? Are you okay?”

Alex sniffled again. “He was trying so _hard_ ,” she said. In extremely un-Alex fashion, she swiped at her face with the hem of her sleeve, leaving behind a dark gray smear. “It’s so _sad_!”

“It’s a TV show,” Emily said blankly. “You don’t cry about anything, much less a…oh no.” She paused the episode. “Alex, how many did you have?”

Alex shrugged. “I wanted to try all of them,” she said. Her dark eyes welled up. “And you were right, grapefruit is the _worst_.”

Emily slid off her bed as Alex burst into tears. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, no. You had four?”

Alex nodded. The four empty cans were lined up with military precision on her nightstand. “Lime was the best one,” she said sadly. 

“Yeah, lime was the best one?” Emily said. She sat down next to her on her neatly-made bed. “Okay, champ. You’ve had alcohol before, right?”

“My dad, he lets me have sips of his beer sometimes when my mom isn’t looking, but…beer is vile,” Alex said earnestly. “And, and my older brothers let me have Jack and cokes when my parents aren’t around, but it’s like…more coke than anything else. Like _one_ drop of Jack.”

“Okay, so you’ve never been flat out tipsy before,” Emily guessed. “Or drunk either.” Alex shook her head. “Oh god. Okay.”

Alex’s phone buzzed on the nightstand; she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned around Emily, fumbling for it. “Oh, it’s _James_ ,” she sighed, flopping over Emily’s lap.

“Yeah? Is that a good thing?” Emily asked, patting her back lightly. “You know what, we should get you some water. That might be helpful.”

Alex fiddled with her phone. “You know, you know…James and I…we’re best friends,” she said. 

“Yeah, that’s really nice,” Emily said. “Can you sit up? You’re crushing me a little.”

Alex pushed herself up, leaning too heavily on Emily’s knee and making her wince. “James is…you know how boys are stupid?” she said.

Emily leaned back on her elbows and smiled up at the ceiling. “I do, yes,” she said.

“Jamie is…so stupid,” Alex said fondly. She looked up from her phone. “I just…want to kiss his stupid face.”

Emily sat up. “Oh shit,” she said. “What am I supposed to do with this information?”

“I just want to kiss him,” Alex said again. “Kiss his…stupid beautiful face.”

“Uh…do you need to kiss him like…now?” Emily said. “Is this an emergency? A kiss emergency?”

“Noooo!” Alex wailed. She threw her phone down on her bed. “That’s the problem! I can’t kiss him, Emily! It’ll mess everything up! He’s…Jamie is my best friend!”

“Harsh,” Emily said. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You know what I mean,” Alex sobbed. “I just love Jamie so much and I can’t…I can’t mess everything up! By kissing his stupid beautiful face!”

“Listen, Miller…I think Jamie might be into it,” Emily snickered. “Ask him about it sometime.” 

Alex rubbed at her face with the heel of her palm. Her makeup was absolutely a lost cause at this point, the black rivulets dripping all the way down to her chin. “Maybe I will,” she said.

“Yeah, we’ll see how that goes,” Emily said. 

The door banged open and Emily jumped. “Guys, we have an emergency,” Elle said.

“Jesus, Elle, are you trying to give us heart attacks?” Emily said. “And we’re out of black cherry, so don’t even ask.”

“I’m giving you the heads-up,” Elle said. “Strauss just sent me an email. She’s going to do bedchecks herself tonight. Surprise inspection.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope,” Elle said. “You’d better hide all the stuff because…” Her voice trailed off. “What’s wrong with Miller?”

Alex had slid to sit on the floor, her legs stretched out in front of her. “I had four,” she said sadly.

Emily looked up at Elle. “She had four.”

“Fuck,” Elle sighed, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. “She can’t be here when Strauss comes through.”

“What am I supposed to do with her?” Emily protested.

“I don’t know! Get her out!” Elle said. She shifted her weight. “Text your friend, the grumpy guy from Lincoln House. See if she can sleep it off on his floor tonight. We’ll tell Strauss that she…she got signed out to spend the weekend with her boyfriend off campus.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Alex said, slumping down further. “But I just wanna kiss his stupid face!” She sighed heavily, flexing her fingers in little grabby hands. “His stupid beautiful face.”

“Yikes,” Elle said. “No tolerance on this one, is there?” She glanced at her phone. “You’d better get her out of here fast. I’ll cover for you if Strauss gets here before you make it back.”

“I’ll try, but this might not end well,” Emily said.

* * *

Hotch scowled as he leaned against the propped-open front door. “This is not at all what I expected,” he said. “Not in a million years would I imagine that you’d be dragging a drunk Alex over here, and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises,” Emily said. She hoisted Alex up the front steps. “Turns out Miller can’t hold her white claws.”

“White claws? All this because of white claws?”

Alex tripped on the top step and Hotch caught her arm. “I had four,” she said dreamily. Her eyes welled up. “I just wanted…to try all of them!”

“Okay, okay, you’re all right,” Hotch said, holding her up. He looked at Emily over Alex’s head. “I never thought she’d be a weepy drunk.”

“Me neither,” Emily said. “Well, she was an angry one for a second. She was shouting about her least favorite book on the way over here.”

“Pride and Prejudice is _trash_ and it’s…it’s _overrated_!” Alex said. She grabbed Hotch’s upper arm. “It’s…there’s like a couple of good lines and a lot of pretty dresses but the rest of it is _trash_.”

“Sure,” Hotch said, perplexed. Alex let go of his arm, mumbling under her breath.

“You haven’t heard her cry over James yes,” Emily said.

Alex gasped. “Is he here?” she said. 

“No, but tell Hotch what you want to do.”

She looked up at Hotch. “Kiss his stupid face.”

“Please tell him that, I’m tired of watching him pine after you,” Hotch said. “Does she…does she not realize he’s had a crush on her for three years?”

“Not a bit.” Emily stuck her hands in her pockets. “Well, this has been fun, but I’ve got to go-”

“Oh, no, I need you to help me get her up to the seventh floor,” Hotch said. “C’mon, give me a hand.”

Emily sighed. “Fine,” she said. 

It was slow going to get Alex up the stairs. Hotch did most of the lifting, but Emily had to keep coaxing her. “Just _stop crying_ , Miller, everything’s fine,” she said.

“Shut up!” Hotch hissed. “Do you want us to get caught?”

Alex caught the railing, stopping both of them in their tracks. “Can I just…sit down?” she said. “There’s so many stairs.”

Hotch pulled her back up to her feet. “Nope, keep going,” he said. “God, you’re just lucky that Gideon wouldn’t care about any of this.”

“Yeah, if you had Strauss for your building you’d be doomed,” Emily said. “Alex, keep going, we’re on the fifth floor, just keep walking.”

They finally managed to drag her up to the seventh floor, and Hotch scooped her up once they reached the common room. “We’ll hide her in my room until we can decide what to do with her,” he said. 

“What are we going to do with her?”

“No idea.”

He set her down on his neatly-made bed. “How’re you doing, sport?” Emily asked. “Feeling okay?”

Alex screwed up her face. Her long hair was an untidy mess around her shoulders, and the jacket Emily had forced her to put on over her pajamas was buttoned wrong. “Not…not great?” she said, rubbing her face. She paused. “Whose room is this?”

“Mine,” Hotch said. “But you’re not staying here long. We’ll have to figure out somewhere else to hide you.”

“We’re in your house?” Alex sat up. “Where’s my baby?” she asked. “Where is he?”

“Spencer’s asleep,” Hotch said. “And I am _not_ letting you wake him up.”

Emily patted her shoulder as her face began to crumple. “He’s fine,” she reassured her. “You’ll be fine too once you get some water and go to sleep.”

“What if he needs me?” Alex said, pressing her hand to her collarbone. “He’s so little.”

“Let him sleep,” Emily said firmly. She planted her hands on Alex’s temples and kissed the top of her head. “And you need to go to sleep. I’m going to get back to my room before Strauss comes through and run interference.”

“Good luck,” Hotch said. “And don’t slam the-”

Emily slammed the door. He sighed heavily and looked over at Alex. The usually calm, cool, and collected mom friend of their group was curled up on his bed, her lower lip wobbling as she wound a long lock of hair around her fingers. “What are you crying about now, Miller?” he asked.

“The Dewey decimal system,” she said, swiping at her eyes. “They’re trying to phase it out. But I’ll…I’ll be fucked…before they make me use LOC.”

Hotch sighed. “I don’t know what I expected,” he said. “Can you get your shoes off my bed?”

She complied slowly, kicking at her boots and peeling off her jacket. The door creaked open. “You guys woke me up,” Spencer complained. He wandered into Hotch’s room, his blanket draped over his shoulder. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

“No, you didn’t miss anything,” Hotch reassured him. “Go back to sleep, kiddo.”

Alex sat up. “Oh, Spencer,” she said, holding out her arms. “Come here, baby.”

“No, he needs to go sleep in his own bed,” Hotch protested, but Spencer had already climbed up, yawning heavily, and tucked himself against her shoulder. “No, Alex, you-”

Alex cuddled him close and pressed kisses to the top of his head. “You’re so _little_ ,” she sighed. “Just the littlest one.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. “You guys, this is very cute, but you need to get out of here,” he said. “Come one, everybody up-”

The door opened again. “Hey, what’s going on?” Derek asked. “I sent Spencer to go see what’s happening, but-” He stopped. “Why…why is Alex…”

“She had a couple of white claws,” Hotch said. She held up four fingers. “Four of them.”

Derek whistled. “Oh boy,” he said. “She okay?”

“So far she’s cried because Spencer is small, and the Dewey decimal system,” Hotch said dryly. 

“A weepy drunk? Never would have guessed that.”

“Me neither, but here we are,” Hotch said. “Can you help me get her out of here? Maybe she can sleep on the floor in your room, since she seems determined to stay close to Spencer.”

“Uh…Hotch?” Derek said. “It’s too late for that.”

He pointed towards the bed, and Hotch turned around. They were both fast asleep; Spencer’s cheek smushed against her shoulder and her arms around him tight. “Well, shit,” he said. 

Derek clapped his hand on Hotch’s shoulder. “You can take Spencer’s bed,” he said. “It’ll be like old times.”

“Fine,” Hotch sighed. “I guess.”


	23. pillow forts and power outages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @therestisconfettis : “the psolc babies making a pillow fort!!”
> 
> @birds-are-better-than-you : “My brain immediately goes to people actually listening to him talk instead of cutting him off, but thats just rooted in sadness”
> 
> @fragolinaa : “I just want people cuddling him, maybe someone who hasn’t yet like Emily or Dave?”
> 
> @purpleturtle31extra : “Spending an off day exploring music together! Like showing him songs that remind you of him or a certain memory..”
> 
> anonymous: “cute cuddly idea: u mentioned Emily and Dave getting Spencer legos. Write a little thing of a rainy day or whatever and everyone’s just chilling building random shit with legos and then there’s gonna be Spencer actually building something with proper ratios and actual potential urban planning and everyone else is just like “hmm… I have built something vaguely resembling a plane”
> 
> anonymous: “omg cuddly mom alex?? maybe spencer napping with her and he has a nightmare??”

“Hey,” Emily said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer dragged his fork around his plate, his chin resting heavily in his hand. “I’m not hungry,” he said dully.

“This is your last day to eat whatever you want,” she pointed out. “Go get something sugary. Donuts or something.”

He shrugged, and she bit back a sigh. Everyone else had left on Wednesday afternoon to spend Thanksgiving break with their respective families- literally everyone, even Hotch- and while they’d had a nice Thanksgiving at James’s house, and she was enjoying having her room all to herself, she and Spencer had been left behind, and the kid was moping like it was his job. She was starting to figure out that while he liked doing things on his own, he needed the security of knowing that everyone else was nearby.

“I guess I’ll go get some chocolate milk or something,” Spencer sighed, sliding down from his chair. 

“See? There you go,” she said. “Treat yourself.”

As soon as he slid down from his chair and trudged away she pulled out her phone.

**the cause of hotchner’s headaches**

**9:09am**

_You guys need to help w the kid hes so sad i dont know what to do_

James texted back first, which didn’t surprise her.

**doctor james, medicine man**

**9:10am**

_Is he okay?_

**the cause of hotchner’s headaches**

**9:10am**

_HES SAD I CANT HANDLE IT COME HELP ME_

**spaghetti grandpa**

**9:11am**

_He’ll be fine. He knows everybodys coming back today right?_

**the cause of hotchner’s headaches**

**9:12am**

_HE IS SAD NOW COME OVER_

She set her phone aside as Spencer walked back up to the table with a carton of chocolate milk in his hands. “Can you open this for me, please?” he asked. 

She did and handed it back, but he didn’t drink it. “How about we go watch a movie or something?” she suggested. “While we’re waiting for everybody to get back on campus. That’ll be fun, right?”

He shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine.”

He scrunched up his face, calculating. “Who do you think will be back first?” he asked.

“I don’t know, babe, we’ll have to see,” she said. “Drink your milk and we’ll get out of here.”

He sighed. “I don’t think I want it anymore,” he said. She shot him her best impression of Alex’s mom look. He rolled his eyes, but he drank it anyway.

Outside the dining hall it was cold and gray and dreary, rain falling just steadily enough to be irritating. She pulled the hood of her jacket over her head and made Spencer put his purple galaxy-print raincoat on over his his sweater before they walked down the steps. 

“Do you think the weather will ground planes?” he asked anxiously. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, squirt,” she said. “It’ll definitely rain all day, but I don’t know if it’ll affect planes. You’ll probably know better than me.”

He said nothing, but he slipped his small hand into hers. She squeezed back gently. The kid had been perfectly well-behaved the whole time she’d been left to watch him, but it was frustrating to see him so sad and quiet and droopy. She didn’t think it was possible to be homesick for other people, but Spencer definitely had a bad case of it.

They settled in the common room, but the cozy space seemed cavernous and empty without the rest of the group. Spencer left his coat and his shoes in his room and settled into Alex’s usual spot on the couch, leaning on the armrest. 

“So what do you want to do, kiddo?” she said. He raised and lowered one shoulder. She huffed. “I’ll just pick something then.”

“Nothing scary, please,” he said, his chin resting on his folded arms.

“No, don’t worry, I learned my lesson,” she said. She grabbed a Star Wars off the shelf- she wasn’t sure which one it was, but she figured she couldn’t go wrong with something sci fi.

“Hotch’s plane lands at eleven, right?” he said as she plunked down on the opposite end of the couch.

“I think so,” she said. She reached over and ruffled his hair lightly. “Stop overthinking, you’re going to blow a fuse in there. Everyone will be home soon, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried,” he mumbled.

They got about halfway through Star Wars (she still wasn’t entirely sure which one it was) when they heard Dave and James on the stairs. “Hey, guys!” Dave called. “We’ve got presents!”

Emily paused the movie. “What do you mean, presents?” she said. “What’d you bring me?”

James and Dave each held large plastic tubs that they dropped with heavy clatters on the floor. “Spencer, you’ve been having fun with the legos we got you for your birthday, right?” James said.

Spencer raised his head. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

“Well, we decided to dig around for our old lego collections you can have your own giant collection,” Dave said. 

He slid off the couch. “Really?” he said.

“Yeah, absolutely,” James said. “Go get yours, we’ll put them all together.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. “Okay!” he said, darting off to his room.

“Oh my god, thank goodness you two are here,” Emily said. 

“You know, you said he was sad, and I didn’t believe it till I saw him,” Dave said, wrenching the lid off the first bin. “He looks like a deflated balloon.”

“See? I wasn’t lying,” Emily said. “Poor kid has been moping all week.”

James checked his phone. “Hopefully everybody will get in without any problems,” he said. “Alex texted me a little bit ago and said they delayed her flight by an hour.” 

“Oh, yikes,” Emily said. “She’d better get back here soon. And don’t tell the kid that, he’ll worry more.”

Spencer ran back into the room with his legos. “How should I organize them?” he asked. “Color first or size first?”

“How about we, you know, build something?” Dave suggested as he sat down on the couch. “C’mere, _passerotto_ , I think I have all the pieces to the batcave.”

“Ooh, which version?” James asked as Spencer sat down on the floor in front of Dave.

“I don’t know. I think I built it once when I was Spencer’s age and then never touched it again.”

Emily leaned over James and scooped up a handful of plastic pieces. “What are you going to build?” she asked.

“Hey, don’t copy me!”

They worked on their projects mostly in companionable silence, sometimes absent chatter. Rain continued to tap at the windows. At least Spencer seemed distracted at last, focused on his projects.

Lightning cracked, white light shining through the window for a brief moment, and everyone jumped; Spencer knocked over one of his structures. “Holy shit,” Emily said. “That was terrifying.”

“You okay?” Dave asked, touching Spencer’s arm lightly.

He nodded, leaning against Dave until he lifted him onto his lap. “Do you think everybody’s okay?” he asked. “Planes can’t always fly in this sort of weather.”

“I’m sure everybody’s fine,” Dave reassured him. Spencer bit his lip, still staring out the window. “So what have you been building?”

“Scale model of campus,” he said. “Well, it’s not exactly to scale. But it’s pretty close.”

James held up a lump of legos. “This was supposed to be a plane,” he said. “But it doesn’t look particularly aerodynamic.”

Spencer laughed. “What kind of plane is it supposed to be?” he asked. “It looks like an off-kilter Cessna.”

“I don’t know. Just…a plane,” James said. 

“I’m trying to see how tall I can build this thing without it falling over,” Emily said. “Not much success yet.”

“I’m sure you know, _caro,”_ Dave said, poking Spencer lightly in the side. “How tall is the tallest lego structure ever?”

“The tallest one is in Milan, it’s a hundred and fourteen feet, eleven inches tall,” he said. “The previous tallest was just a hundred and fourteen feet tall, in Budapest.”

“Milan, hm?” Dave said. “Maybe I’ll go see it next time I’m over there.”

“There’s one in Tel Aviv that was built to be four feet taller but-”

Lightning cracked again and Spencer jumped. Dave rubbed his back lightly. “It’s okay, it’s just a bad storm,” he said. It was too late, though- the attempts at distraction had failed, and Spencer was clearly back to worrying, the corners of his mouth tugging down.

Dave looked over at Emily. _What should we do?_ he mouthed. She shrugged helplessly.

Thankfully, right at that moment heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. Spencer raised his head. _Please let it be one of our group, please let it be one of our group_ , Emily thought fervently.

A tall figure in a rain-soaked coat made it to the top of the stairs, almost terrifying for a split second, but he threw back his hood and shook his head. “Jesus, that was a nightmare,” he said. 

Spencer scrambled to his feet and ran towards him, nearly kicking Dave in his haste. “Hotch!” he shrieked, throwing his arms around his waist.

“Hey, kiddo!” Hotch said, bending to hug him. “Hey, careful, it’s raining really hard out there, I’m drenched and I don’t want you to get wet.” 

“How was your flight?” James asked.

Spencer, undeterred, still clung to Hotch; Hotch ran his fingers through his thick short curls. “Unbelievably shitty,” he said. “Flights were getting canceled left and right, it’s just storming bad everywhere. If I hadn’t gotten such an early flight, I might not’ve made it back.”

“That’s what we’ve been worrying about,” Emily said. “And when I say _we_ I mean _Spencer_.”

Hotch tugged him back so he could see his face. “Hey, stop worrying,” he said. “Everybody will get back eventually. I promise.” 

“I can’t help worrying,” Spencer said. “What if everybody’s flights get delayed? What if something happens to their planes. What if-”

Hotch scooped him up. “Hey, I think the dining hall’s open for lunch,” he said. “Anybody else hungry? I didn’t have time for breakfast before my flight and all they gave me was one packet of pretzels.”

“They stopped giving away peanuts because of allergies becoming more common,” Spencer said, leaning his cheek against Hotch’s shoulder even though his coat was soaked with rain.

“Yeah?” Hotch said. “How about you go get your coat and your shoes, okay? I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Spencer said reluctantly. Hotch set him back down on his feet and he ran down the hall to his room.

“I am so glad you’re back, Hotchner,” Emily said, sweeping her lego tower back into the bin. “He’s been so sad with everybody gone.”

“I can tell,” he said. “Has he been like this the whole time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily said. “I’ve barely been able to get two words out of him.”

“Even when they came over for Thanksgiving he wasn’t talking much,” James added.

Hotch sighed. “I didn’t even think about this,” he said. “Poor kid.”

Emily’s phone buzzed. “Oh, it’s Penelope,” she said. “I’ll put her on speaker. Hey, Pen, how’s it going?”

“Terrible!” Penelope said, her voice crackling over the line. “I made the flight from California to Texas for my layover, but they canceled my connecting flight. It’s storming too bad.”

“Oh, yikes,” Dave said. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she sighed. “They have me booked for a flight first thing in the morning, and the airline is putting me up in a hotel for the night, but it’s so frustrating.”

“I’m sure,” James said. “Stay safe, okay? Do you need anything?”

“Are you kidding? The hotel has like a million channels and room service, I’m doing great!” Penelope said. “I’ll call you guys in the morning before my flight, okay? Talk to you soon!”

Emily sighed as the call ended. “Well, that’s one down,” she said.

“Penelope’s not coming?”

Spencer peeked out of the hall, his rainboots on and his coat dragging from his hand. “Yeah, her connecting flight got canceled,” Dave said. “But she’s safe, and she’ll be on a flight tomorrow, okay? So don’t worry.”

Judging by the way he pressed his mouth together, he definitely was worried. Emily pushed herself up from the floor. “Let’s go get lunch, okay?” she said. “Before Hotch starves.”

The rain had gotten decidedly worse, coming down in heavy sheets and flooding patches of the courtyard. Her umbrella helped a little but not much; Dave complained loudly the entire walk over. Spencer stayed glued to Hotch’s side, clinging tightly to his hand even once they made it to the warm safety of the dining hall. 

Hotch pulled Spencer’s hood down as they got in line. “What do you want?” he asked. 

“I’m not hungry,” he said.

He frowned, then covered Spencer’s ears. “Emily, be honest,” he said. “Did he eat while we were gone?”

“Not for lack of trying,” she said. “I kept putting shit on his plate and he barely touched it.”

“Did he just eat ice cream and candy?”

“He didn’t even want sweets. Or coffee, even.”

Hotch’s frown deepened. “Well, shit,” he said. He dropped his hands to Spencer’s shoulders. “Okay, kid, you have to eat something. If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

Spencer shrugged. “That’s fine,” he said. 

Hotch met Emily’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “I told you,” she said. 

She followed Hotch down the cafeteria line as he filled up two plates. Spencer stayed so close he ran the risk of getting stepped on, his small hand clinging to the hem of Hotch’s jacket.

Dave and James had beaten them to their usual table, and neither of them looked particularly happy. “Bad news,” James said. “JJ just called. Her parents rescheduled her flight. They were worried about the storms, so she’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. “But she’s okay?” he said anxiously.

“She’s fine, _caro_ ,” Dave said. “And she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What about Derek and Alex?” he asked. “Have they called? Or texted.”

“Not yet,” James said. “Maybe they’re already on their flights, though. I”m sure we’ll hear from them soon.”

Hotch set the tray down on the table, then picked Spencer up and set him down in his chair. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “So how did Thanksgiving go for you guys?”

Even with their attempts at changing the subject and trying to draw him into the conversation, Spencer seemed to sink further into himself, his legs tucked up under him and his chin resting in his hand, his plate still mostly untouched. Emily couldn’t blame him for being sad. All week it had been just the two of them in the nearly-deserted dining hall, and even with the boys there it seemed wrong without the rest of the group- Penelope shrieking about something that didn’t need to be shrieked about, Derek regaling them with stories from football practice, JJ’s pretty laugh bubbling over, Alex keeping the peace and stopping cups and plates from getting knocked over and tilted onto the ground.

Hotch didn’t make much headway getting Spencer to eat, but at least he ate a little bit, and their little group braved the storm to get back to Lincoln House. “What have you guys been up to?” he asked as they settled in the common room again, coats and umbrellas hung up to dry.

“Legos,” James said. “This was supposed to be a plane.”

Hotch laughed. “Yikes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re not planning on going into engineering.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” he said ruefully. “I-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Dave interrupted. “Did you guys see the group chat?”

Emily fumbled for her phone. “No, I didn’t, I…oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Hotch asked.

“Derek’s flight got canceled too,” James said. “He says it got delayed and he sat on the tarmac for three hours, but they pulled everybody off the plane. His mom’s already picked him up, so he’s fine.”

Emily glanced over at Spencer. He curled himself up smaller, his knees tucked up to his chest, chewing on his thumbnail. “But he’ll be here tomorrow?” he said. 

“Yeah, he’ll be here tomorrow,” Dave reassured him.

Spencer lifted his head. “Can we call Alex?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, of course,” Emily said, immediately pulling Alex’s contact info on the screen. “Here, kiddo. Just press-”

Lightning cracked, and with a sharp pop the common room went dark.

“Holy shit!” Emily shrieked, the phone falling from her hand.

“Did a fuse blow?” Dave said.

James got up and looked out the window. “Well, judging by the other buildings on campus…I think the power’s out everywhere,” he said.

“Well, fuck,” Hotch said.

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Watch your language!” she said in mock horror.

“Oh, shut up,” Hotch said good-naturedly. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait for the power to come back on. Spencer, do you want to go ahead and call Alex? She’ll probably be glad to miss the power outage.”

“I think the tower’s down too,” Spencer said in a small voice. “There’s no signal.” He held the phone back out to Emily. “Thanks anyway.”

She reached for the phone, and as the lock screen flickered she caught the faint mark of tears on his cheek. “Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, fuck. Spencer, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” he said, but there was a distinct wobble in his voice.

“Spencer, it’s going to be okay,” Hotch said. “The power’s going to come back on, and everyone will be home soon.”

It was too dark to see, but she could hear Spencer sniffling in a valiant effort to keep form crying. “I know,” he said. “But I-”

Hotch picked Spencer up and placed him in Emily’s lap. “Stay here with Em for a second,” he said. “James, Dave, come with me.”

Spencer dropped his head against Emily’s collarbone as she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s been a rough week, dude. You didn’t get to go home and see your family, and you miss everybody. And you’re worried because of the storms. It makes sense.” She kissed the top of his head. “And now we’ve got all this power outage shit. But it’ll be okay.”

Hotch dumped an armload of stuff onto the nearest armchair. “Thank goodness for Penelope’s illegal candle stash,” he said. 

Emily twined one of Spencer’s short curls around her finger. “What’s with all of the pillows and blankets?” she asked.

In the dim light she could see Hotch grin. “We’re going to make a blanket fort,” he said. “C’mere, Spencer, I could use your brain for this.”

Emily set Spencer on his feet as James and Dave brought in their collections of pillows and blankets. She busied herself lighting candles and placing them in safe places around the room as Spencer directed the older boys in their construction. He seemed to perk up a little bit with something to focus on, especially as they let him be in charge.

“Okay, I’ve made some blanket forts in my day, but this one is pretty cool,” James said. 

“That’s because Penelope has about eight million blankets and they’re all soft as baby puppies,” Emily said as she crawled into the fort. “I claim the blue pillow!”

All five of them fit comfortably inside, the interior lit with a string of battery operated fairy lights, also taken from Penelope’s room. Spencer nestled himself between Hotch and Emily. “Are we going to tell Penelope that we borrowed all of her stuff?” he asked. 

Hotch handed him his favorite blanket. “I think if we leave the fort up till she gets back, she won’t mind as long as she gets to hang out in here,” he said. 

“What should we do?” Dave asked. “Power’s still out, and there’s no wifi either.”

“Oh!” Emily said. “Okay, I’ve been trying to get you to listen to this album for weeks. Now is the perfect time! You’re a captive audience.”

They took turns passing each other’s phones back and forth, listening to different songs in the comfort of the handmade blanket fort, playfully arguing over each other’s tastes in music as the warm glow of the fairy lights cast soft shadows. Spencer seemed a little less tense now, snuggled safely between Hotch and Emily with his blanket hugged to his chest.

She hadn’t kept track of time, but it was at least two hours before the power switched back on, the overhead lights suddenly way too bright after the dimmness of the tent. “There we go,” Dave said, sitting up and checking his phone. “And we’ve got signal again!” He stretched his arm over James and Emily to hold out the phone to Spencer. “Here, _passerotto_ , see if you can call Alex.”

He took it eagerly and tapped at the screen to bring up her info, but his excitement faded almost instantly. “It went right to voicemail,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

James scrambled ungracefully to his feet. “Hey, since the power’s back, who wants to watch a movie?” he said. 

“Not a Star War, please,” Emily called. “I can’t tell any of them apart.”

Hotch propped himself up on his elbow. “Hey, Spence,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m sure Alex is fine.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said. He turned to Hotch, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a rueful little half smile. “I bet her flight got canceled too. It’s okay.”

James flipped the overhead lights off, leaving them back in the glow of the candles and the string lights, and crawled back into the fort with the remote in his hand. “All right, if anyone has objections, y’all can get up yourself and change it,” he said.

Emily settled back as the movie started. Spencer was quiet beside her, but after a while he rolled over onto his stomach, his forehead pressed against Hotch’s arm and his blanket tangled around his legs, and she smiled when she heard his first little snore.

“Hotchner,” she whispered. “This blanket fort idea was genius.”

Hotch grinned. “Sean made me make one for him while I was home,” he said. “I figured Spencer might like it too.” He paused. “Is he asleep?” Emily nodded. “Thank god.”

James sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Guys, I still haven’t heard from Alex,” he said. “It’s still going right to voicemail when I call her and she hasn’t answered any texts.”

“Maybe her signal’s out too,” Dave said. “Don’t worry about it. Alex can take care of herself.”

James pouted. “Yeah, but…I might be a little worried about her,” he said. “It’s not like her to not answer.”

“Awww, you miss your girlfriend,” Emily teased. 

“I do! I do miss her!” James said. 

“Guys, if any of you wake up Spencer, I will murder you,” Hotch hissed. 

“I’m sorry!” James whispered back. “I just- I think I need to be worried about Alex.”

Suddenly a familiar person knelt down and leaned into the tent. “You’re worried about me?” Alex said, her long red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. “That’s so sweet!”

James scrambled up, smacking Dave in the face in his haste. “Oh my god, I missed you!” he said. He tugged her closer, cupping her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. “Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “My phone died and I didn’t pack any of my portable chargers in my carryon. Where’s everybody else?”

“Everybody’s flights are delayed,” Emily said. “Spencer’s been beside himself.”

“Oh, poor thing,” she said. “Is he sleeping? I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Yeah, he just dozed off,” Hotch said. “He’s going to be so relieved to see you.”

Emily scooted over to make room. “C’mere, the movie hasn’t been on for very long,” she said. 

“Hey!” James protested. “She’s my girlfriend, shouldn’t she be next to me?”

“Well, she’s my roommate, and I’ve had her for longer,” Emily said. Alex laughed as she settled between her and Spencer, busying herself with snuggling him against her side and tucking him in. Emily leaned over to whisper in James’s ear. “Besides, we all know you two are gonna go fool around the second you get a chance. You’ll get your quality time, don’t worry.”

Even in the dim light she could see him turn red. “What are you guys whispering about?” Alex asked. 

“Nothing!” James squeaked. Emily made a rude hand gesture and he smacked her arm. “Emily! Stop it!”

She snickered as she leaned her head against Alex’s shoulder. “How was your week being in charge?” Alex asked as she adjusted Spencer’s blanket around him.

“Could have been worse…could have been a lot better,” Emily said. “He was so sad. I’m not good with sad kids.”

“I’m sure you did great,” Alex reassured her.

The movie was almost over when Spencer began to shift and whimper in his sleep. “Is he okay?” Emily asked.

“He’s-” Hotch winced as Spencer kicked him in the shins. “Ow. Bad dream, I think.”

Alex sat up. “Okay, I’m going to wake him up,” she said. 

“Careful, he can be pretty feisty,” Hotch warned.

Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead as he tried to pull away from her. “Spencer, wake up,” she called gently, her hand resting on his chest. “Come on, darling.”

She kept coaxing him until his eyes finally opened. “What’s going on?” he mumbled.

“You had a bad dream,” she said. 

He blinked. “Alex?” he said sleepily. “Did your plane land safely?”

Hotch laughed. “Yeah, kiddo, her plane landed safely,” he said. “Get the sleep out of your eyes.”

Spencer rubbed his face and blinked again. “Alex!” he yelped, throwing himself into her arms. 

“Hi, baby,” she said. “Did you miss me?”

“A little bit,” he said, tilting his face so she could kiss his cheek. “Was your flight okay? Was there a lot of turbulence?”

“Everything was fine,” she reassured him as she cuddled him against her side. “Now, sh, I think Dave is getting invested in the movie.”

“No, I’m not,” he said absently.

“Yes, he is,” Emily teased.

Spencer settled down with his head on Alex’s knees; Hotch tugged his blanket around him. “Everybody else will be here tomorrow,” he said. “Penelope’s connecting flight got canceled, and Derek’s got canceled, and JJ’s parents rescheduled her.”

“That’s good,” she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep, darling. You look so tired. And everything’s going to be okay, nothing to worry about.”

The rain had settled back into a light tapping on the window; the thunder and lightning had long since stopped. Emily leaned back against her pillows, smiling in contented relief. Alex was right. Everything was going to be okay.


	24. fearing the worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober 2020 day #2
> 
> prompted by squirrel anon
> 
> In the Hands of the Enemy
> 
> “Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped

Alex pressed her hands to her temples, trying to swallow back the frustrated tears threatening to spill over. “Has anyone texted back?” she asked.

Hotch checked his phone again, even though he’d just looked at it. “Nothing yet,” he said. “Derek and Dave are at the football field, James and JJ are at the Honeybean, and Emily and Penelope are checking classrooms.” 

“Do you think we should stay here?” Alex said. “Or should we separate and keep looking? There’s still the creek, and the amphitheater, and-”

“We’ll wait for everyone else to come back here,” Hotch said. “Lincoln House is the safest meeting point. And if he comes back here, the safest place to be is in the lobby, there’s no other way in or out.”

Alex nodded. They’d spent the last hour searching all over campus for Spencer. It was like he had disappeared into thin air, and she felt ready to fall into a full scale panic attack at any second. After the goalpost, they’d been so careful to make sure he was never left alone, but JJ and Penelope had told them tearfully that a teacher in their last class had sent him down to the front office to pick something up, and he’d never come back. 

She checked her phone again. No messages from anybody. And she and Hotch had already searched the library top to bottom, and she’d told the startled junior working the desk to call her the second they spotted Spencer, just in case he came there.

“Maybe we should go looking for him,” Hotch mumbled under his breath, sitting down on the edge of the lobby desk.

The front doors opened and Gideon walked in briskly. “Oh, Aaron,” he said. “I was hoping I’d find you.”

Hotch stood up quickly. “Sir, there’s a problem, we can’t-”

Alex grabbed his arm. Trailing behind Gideon was Spencer, his uniform cardigan buttoned wrong and his face rosy from crying. “Oh my god, Spencer, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

Spencer broke away from Gideon and flung himself into her arms. Alex picked him up, hugging him tightly as her heart thudded in her chest and he burst into tears, sobbing into her shoulder. “What happened?” Hotch demanded as she kissed Spencer’s cheek and pressed her hand against the back of his head. 

“He had a bit of a fall,” Gideon explained. “I took him to the infirmary to get patched up. Oh, no, is he crying again?”

“He’s nine, nine-year-olds do that,” Hotch said, patting Spencer’s back as he bawled into Alex’s neck. “How badly is he hurt?”

“Oh, just skinned knees and elbows, nothing terrible,” Gideon said. 

“I was  _ bleeding _ ,” Spencer said, his voice muffled and his shoulders hitching.

Alex rocked him lightly. His slight weight was warm and comfortable and reassuring in her arms; at this point she was so relieved to have him back that she was willing to hold him forever. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she said. “I’m so sorry, are you okay? Are you still hurting?”

“He’ll be fine,” Gideon said dismissively. He frowned. “Are you two okay? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“We were worried that he was missing,” Hotch said, keeping his hand on Spencer’s back.

Gideon laughed. “It’s not like I kidnapped him or anything, he’s perfectly fine,” he said. “And I’m sure he’s in good hands with you and your sister.”

Alex tilted her head. “Sister?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Gideon said. He looked from her to Hotch. “You two are...siblings, right? Twins?”

She caught Hotch’s eye; he was biting back a grin. “Oh, yes,” she said, and Hotch nodded solemnly. “Of course.”

“Well, I’ll leave the boy with you two,” Gideon said. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Have a good day, you two. And Spencer, feel better.”

Spencer leaned back from Alex and swiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Are you ever gonna correct people when they think you’re twins?” he asked, sniffling.

“Absolutely not, it’s hilarious,” Hotch said. He lifted Spencer out of Alex’s arms and set him down on the lobby desk. “All right, kid, what’s the damage like?”

Spencer’s lower lip wobbled. “My knees got the worst of it,” he said, hiccuping loudly. “They b-bled a lot more than I expected.”

He was wearing the shorts that the underclassmen boys were allowed as part of the school uniform; Hotch pushed up the hems and took a look at the bandages covering Spencer’s knobby little knees. “I’m sorry, kiddo,” he said. “That must’ve hurt pretty bad. Did you hit every step on the way down?”

“I might have,” Spencer said. Alex brushed a tear from his cheek with her thumb. “The trajectory was a lot steeper than I thought it was.”

Alex kissed him; his face was puffy and swollen from crying. Spencer leaned against her and she hugged him tight. “Well, everything’s going to be okay now,” she reassured him. “Let’s get you cleaned up. And maybe we can talk Dave and Emily into ordering pizza for dinner.”

“Oh shit!” Hotch said, fumbling for his phone. “I should text everybody else so they know to stop looking.”

Spencer knuckled his eyes. “Everybody was looking for me?” he said.

“Of course they were,” Alex said. “We all were, we were worried about you.” She picked him up off the desk and he immediately latched his arms tight around her neck. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

He leaned his cheek on her shoulder, and she hugged him as tight as she could. She still had nightmares that he was missing, that they’d taken him again, that he was tied up to the goalpost and crying for her, but no matter how fast she ran, how hard she pushed, she couldn’t get to him.

Spencer wriggled in her grip. “Alex, you’re squeezing me too tight,” he said. 

She set him down on his feet and took his hand instead. “Come on, darling,” she said. “We’ll let big brother here text everybody while we get you squared away.”

Hotch looked up from his phone. “Hm?”

“See, he even answers to it,” Alex teased, and Spencer laughed. She pinched Hotch’s cheek. “Thanks, bubba. You’re the best twin brother who’s a year younger than me.”

He frowned. “Yeah, why do we get asked if we’re twins all the time?” he asked. “I don’t know how that started.”


	25. big sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whumptober 2020 day #6
> 
> prompted by anonymous
> 
> PLEASE….
> 
> “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”
> 
> (trigger warnings for vomit)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Emily asked.

Alex rummaged through her backpack, clearly not paying much attention. “What was that?” she asked.

Emily leaned over the back of the couch. “I said, are you sure this is a good idea?” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because I know nothing about child care.”

Alex picked up her chromebook in its case, sighed in relief to find it, and put it back in her backpack. “Well, Hotch and I are going with James to the top ten percent meeting, Dave went home, JJ and Derek are off doing athletic things, Haley has a voice lesson, and Penelope has a club,” she said. “I’m not sure which club, but a club. So that means you’re the only one who can keep an eye on Spencer.”

Emily huffed. “Just because I’m the last person available to babysit doesn’t mean I  _ should  _ babysit,” she said. 

Spencer looked up from his book and scowled. “I’m not a baby, I don’t need a babysitter,” he protested.

“I know, darling, but someone needs to stay with you while we’re all gone,” Alex said. “Really, Emily, it’s not like you have to do much. Just keep him company and make sure he stays in one piece.”

“Fine,” Emily said. “But that’s it. Bare minimum.”

Hotch walked into the common room with his backpack on his shoulder. Both he and Alex had changed out of their uniforms, but while she looked pretty and put-together in a dress and a hair ribbon, he just looked mildly uncomfortable in his polo shirt and khakis. “Ready to go?” he said. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Alex said. She cupped Spencer’s chin in her hand and kissed him. “Be good, baby, we’ll be back soon.”

Hotch rubbed his ear sleepily. “Yeah, it should only be a few hours,” he said. “I don’t think even you could make things go horribly wrong in a few hours.”

“Ha, ha, fuck you, Hotchner,” Emily said. “You guys have fun being smart dweebs. I’m glad I don’t have to spend my free time doing smart kid shit.” 

Hotch flipped his eyes with a barely-concealed grin; Alex rolled her eyes and nudged him towards the stairs. “Enough, you two, let’s go,” she said. She started to follow him, then stopped. “Oh, but keep an eye on Spencer, I think he might be coming down with something. And you know how he has the immune system of a wet piece of paper.”

Emily looked over at Spencer; he was absorbed in his book and hadn’t seemed to hear her. She turned back to Alex to see her already heading down the stairs. “Hey, Miller, wait!” she called. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She sighed and turned back to Spencer. “Hey, squirt,” she said. “You’re feeling okay, right? You’re not sick or anything?” He turned a page and shrugged. “Yeah, that’s not particularly reassuring.”

She made herself comfortable on the biggest couch, her legs stretched out in front of her, and busied herself with her phone. There really wasn’t anything to worry about. It was just a few hours, and Spencer wasn’t a baby. He could entertain himself, and she just had to make sure he stayed in one piece.

She scrolled aimlessly through TikTok until her phone died. “Fuck!” she said. She rolled over enough to reach her bag on the floor, but her charger was nowhere to be found. “God, I can’t tell Alex, she’s always telling me to carry a charger and she’ll be so smug. Spencer, do you know if Hotch has a charger in his room?”

She sat up. Spencer was nowhere to be found. “Well, fuck,” she said. “I can’t believe I lost him.”

Emily got up, holding onto her phone, and headed down the hall to Hotch’s room. She’d plug in her phone first, then go looking for the kid. Most likely he’d gone down to the vending machine to get a snack or something.

Hotch’s dorm room was almost painfully clean, so of course she found his charger coiled up and placed sensibly on his nightstand. She plugged in her phone and squinted at her screen. “Come on, just charge a little bit,” she said to herself. 

She paused. The light was on in Hotch’s bathroom, and she could hear someone moving around.

“Spencer?” she called hesitantly.

The door swung open slowly. Spencer sat on the bathroom floor, his short hair disheveled and his eyes watering. “I think I’m sick,” he hiccuped.

“Oh, damn it,” Emily sighed. She touched her hand to his forehead the way she’d seen Alex and Hotch do it a hundred times. “Yikes, kiddo. You’re super hot. Have you been-”

She was about to ask him if he’d been throwing up, but he lurched away from her and vomited into the toilet. Emily recoiled. She did  _ not  _ do vomit. Absolutely not. She could barely handle herself during a hangover, much less a sick little kid.

“Yeah, you definitely don’t feel good, do you?” she said. 

He sat back, his lower lip wobbling. “I want Alex,” he said in a small voice. “I want Hotch.”

“You and me both, babe,” she said. She sat down beside and rested her hand lightly on his back. “You think you’re going to be sick again?” He nodded. “Okay. We’ll just camp out here for a while, then.”

That turned out to be easier said than done. When Spencer wasn’t throwing up, he was curled up on the floor with his head on her lap, but mostly he was throwing up while she tentatively patted his back. She wished she could get up to check her phone, see how much longer she had until Spencer’s accidental teen parents got back, or send a text to Alex asking what the hell she was supposed to do. 

But suddenly Spencer was coughing too hard, his arms shaking as he tried to hold himself up, and big tears were rolling down his pale cheeks. “Make it stop,” he sobbed. “I can’t, I can’t do it. Make it stop, Emily.”

Emily slid closer to him, supporting his weight. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You’re okay, just get it all out of your system and then you’ll feel better.”

“Make it stop,” he begged. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo, there’s nothing I can do,” she said. “I’m right here, okay? You’ve just got to wait it out.”

She steeled herself as Spencer kept going, keeping her hand steady on his narrow back. Eventually he wore himself out and sank down onto the floor, his head on her lap. “I want Alex,” he wailed. “Where’s Alex?”

“She’s coming back,” Emily reassured him, stroking his hair. “I swear, she’ll be back soon. Just a little longer. Do you want to get up so I can put you to bed?”

“No,” he sobbed. “I want Alex.”

Emily bit her lip. “I’m all you’ve got right now, baby, I’m so sorry,” she said. She pulled him up off the floor to hold him on her lap. “Just a little longer.”

It seemed like a century passed before she heard familiar voices in the next room. “Alex, you can stop fussing, I’m fine,” she heard Hotch said.

“No, you’re not, bubba, lie down. Stop fighting, you know you’re going to lose anyway. And the sooner you lie down, the sooner I can go looking for Emily and Spencer.”

“Al, we’re in here,” Emily called. 

Alex peeked into the bathroom and her brown eyes went wide. “Oh my god, what happened?” she said. 

Spencer opened his eyes at her voice and clumsily crawled out of Emily’s lap. “Alex, I got sick,” he said. 

She caught him easily in her arms. “I can tell,” she said, scooping him up and setting him on her hip as he wrapped his arms around her neck. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. You’re burning up.”

Emily rubbed her eyes, not caring if she was smearing her makeup. “He’s been puking for days,” she said. “Okay, not days, but like... at least an hour. How does one tiny kid hold so much puke?”

Alex hugged Spencer tightly. “That’s a great question,” she said. “I can ask the same about Hotchner. His immune system is barely better than Spencer’s.”

“I’m not sick,” Hotch called from his room.

“Yes, you are,” Alex called back. She adjusted Spencer on her hip. “Em, I’m so sorry. I suspected he was a little under the weather, I didn’t think he’d be this bad. You did great, though. Thank you so much for taking care of him.”

Emily tucked her hair back behind her ears. “Yeah, you owe me big time, Miller,” she said. “Although...I guess this is payback for all the hangovers you’ve held my hair through.”


	26. big brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whumptober day #7
> 
> prompted by blazeh/bumblebee anon
> 
> I've Got You
> 
> Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

Spencer jerked awake, his body jolting like he’d suddenly fallen. His dream was still painfully fresh in his mind and his heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst out of his chest.

His room was dark, way too dark. He could just make out the shape of his nightlight still plugged into the wall, but the bulb must have burned out. But he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t sleep alone in the dark. Derek’s bed was empty, the sheets and blankets still in disarray like he’d left them in the morning. Of course. He was at an away game.

Spencer fumbled around in the dark for his blanket. Sometimes when he had bad dreams his covers got tangled up, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. Tears burned behind his eyes. He couldn’t sleep without his blanket or his nightlight, he couldn’t, and he hated it. Why was he such a baby? 

It was just a stupid dream. He didn’t need to be so afraid. But he was, he was  _ terrified _ , and he didn’t want to be alone. He needed to be safe.

His fingers brushed the soft fabric of his blanket and he grabbed at it in desperation. It was a relief, but it wasn’t enough. 

He gathered up his blanket, took a deep breath to steel himself, and climbed out of bed. The halls of Lincoln House were unbearably creepy at night; the floors creaked under his feet and the endless corridor of identical doors loomed on either side of him. 

There was still a light shining under Hotch’s door. Spencer knocked harder than he intended, rapid and frantic. 

Hotch opened the door and frowned. He was dressed in flannel pajamas and a tee shirt with his favorite wrestler on it, and his dark hair stuck up in untidy angles. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” he asked sleepily.

His chest heaved. “I had a bad dream,” he said in a small voice.

Hotch’s dark eyes softened. “Can’t go back to sleep, huh?” he said. Spencer shook his head, unable to speak, and Hotch ushered him into the room. “You wanna keep me company while I finish my trig homework?”

Spencer nodded. Hotch picked him up and held him on his hip, his mouth tugging down in a soft frown as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t have a lot left, so when I’m done you can tell me if you want to stay here for the night, or if you want to go back to your own room, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” he echoed. Hotch carried him over to the bed and set him down gently. He did his best to make himself comfortable, burrowing into the pillow and holding tight to his blanket. Hotch pulled the covers up to his shoulders and patted his back lightly before going back to his desk.

Spencer exhaled slowly. He almost felt stupid for being so scared, except that there was still a little knot of nauseating irrational fear at the pit of his stomach. The desk lamp cast warm friendly shadows, and Hotch tapped his pencil against his textbook in a thoughtful rhythmic pattern, and the sheets and comforter were warm and and soft. 

He shifted around so he could lie on his tummy, still gripping tight to his blanket. Hotch was talking to himself under his breath as he worked through a problem; for a moment Spencer debated chiming in, but it sounded like he was figuring it out correctly. He stuck a corner of his blanket in his mouth and chewed it quietly. Derek hated it when he did that, but it was inexplicably comforting to him. And besides, Hotch and Alex never stopped him. 

He didn’t realize he was dozing off until the lights went out. “Wait, wait,” he said, pushing himself up as his heart squeezed tight in his chest.

Hotch dug around in his desk drawer, pulled out the spare nightlight, and plugged it in. “It’s okay,” he said. “Don’t worry, Spencer, I got it.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “You want to go back to your room, or do you want to sleep with me?”

“Sleep with you,” he said in a small voice.

Hotch ruffled his hair gently. “All right. Scoot over.”

Spencer obeyed and Hotch crawled into bed beside him, stretching out his long gangly legs and shifting the covers around. He sighed heavily, the sound shifting into a yawn. “Do you wanna talk about your dream?” he asked. “Do you wanna call Alex and talk to her before you go to sleep?”

Spencer shook his head. “That’s fine,” Hotch said. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you feel better at least? Warm enough?”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer said. 

“Good,” Hotch said. “Try to get some sleep, okay? But wake me up if you have another bad dream.”

Spencer pulled himself up to rest his head on Hotch’s shoulder and press himself against his side. Hotch’s breathing was already slowing down, turning deep and even. Somehow it made him feel calmer, maybe even safer. It was hard to stay afraid when he wasn’t alone.

He didn’t realize he was fidgeting until Hotch rested his hand on his back. “Take it easy,” he said, already half asleep. “Lie still. Try to sleep.”

Spencer did his best to obey. He held onto Hotch’s shirt, his small hand pulling at the fabric, and he kept the corner of his blanket in his mouth. But he didn’t want to sleep. The dream was far away now, faded to a vague sense of fear rather than anything that he remembered clearly, but he was afraid it might come back if he let his guard down.

He faded in and out of sleep, never relaxing enough to fully doze off. Every time he realized he was awake again he held onto Hotch’s shirt a little tighter, listening to his breathing and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, struggling to ground himself.

Somewhere around two in the morning he shifted back into consciousness enough to recognize Hotch’s voice, thick and drawling. “You’re okay, kid,” he was saying sleepily, running his hand up and down his back. “You’re okay, Spencer, go back to sleep. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

Spencer drew in a breath, held it, exhaled slowly. The fear in his chest subsided, drawing into something smaller and quieter and easier to carry, and he tucked his cheek into the crook of Hotch’s neck and let himself fall asleep. 

* * *

Hotch woke up around two in the morning, disoriented and a little hazy. He’d forgotten that Spencer had come to sleep with him; at first he was confused as to why there was a warm little body clinging to his side. For a moment he thought it might have been Sean.

But then he remembered Spencer knocking on the door in a panic, his big hazel eyes too bright in his pale little face and his blanket clutched to his chest like a shield. His nightmares were less frequent nowadays, but it didn’t make them any less terrifying for the poor kid. At least he’d stopped screaming and waking up the whole floor.

Spencer was sort of talking in his sleep- not anything that made sense, but he was clearly distressed. Hotch rubbed his back. “You’re okay, kid,” he said sleepily, biting back a yawn. “You’re okay, Spencer, go back to sleep. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

Sometimes it was easy to forget how young Spencer was. He was so smart, and so articulate, and so independent. But he was so little still, and his emotions were sometimes too big for him to manage, and he was fragile. 

He remembered when he was nine and little and fragile, when his father would scold him for crying, telling he needed to grow up, to be more mature, to be more responsible. He remembered being sent back to bed alone when he went to his parents’ room seeking comfort after bad dreams, being told that he shouldn’t be so stupid, it was just a dream.

Hotch smoothed Spencer’s hair until he was satisfied that the child had drifted off to sleep again. He would never turn Spencer away like that, not ever. He didn’t care if Spencer came running to him with nightmares every night for the rest of the school year. He would take care of him, the way that somebody should have taken care of him.


	27. Emily makes a poor choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was prompted by the spectacular flustraaa (linguinereid on tumblr)!

Emily poked at her ear, trying to twist around to get a better look in the mirror. “Shit,” she mumbled, wincing as she prodded a sore spot. She leaned across the bathroom counter, almost sitting in the sink. “I think I fucked up. Shit.”

“That looks infected.”

She jumped in surprise and fell off the counter, hitting the faucet on her way down and splashing water across her shirt. “What the fuck!” she exclaimed. Spencer stood in the bathroom doorway, head tilted and eyes wide like a very small owl. “You little gremlin, you scared the shit out of me! What are you doing in here?”

“You left the door open,” Spencer said. “What’s wrong with your ear?”

She fumbled to turn off the faucet and pick up Hotch’s knocked-over toothbrush. “Nothing.”

“It’s red and swollen,” he said. “That’s a sign of infection. What did you do?” His eyes went wide. “Did you get that piercing after Hotch told you it was a bad idea?”

She smoothed her hair down over her ear. “Nope,” she said. “Why would you think that?”

“I heard you guys arguing about it,” he said. “Hotch said it was against dress code, and you said you didn’t give two fucks about dress code, and he said you were shit at cleaning the piercings you already have and you’d fuck up your ears, and you said-”

“Okay, okay, you and your eidetic memory can stop at literally any time,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that big a deal. There was a girl at the party last weekend who said she’d pierced like everybody’s ears at camp last summer, and she’d always wanted to try an industrial, and-” She paused. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You’re ten.”

“Nine.”

“Close enough. Why are you here, anyway?”

Spencer shifted his weight. “I have to pee,” he said.

“All right, I’ll get out,” Emily said. “But not a word to Hotch, understand? Not a single word. He cannot know about this. You know how smug he gets when he right about something.”

“Is he right, though?” Spencer said. “Did you fuck up your ear?”

“Okay, no swearing either, Alex will murder me if you pick up on me swearing,” Emily said. She stepped out of the bathroom and gave Spencer a little push inside. “Seriously, though. Don’t tell Alex either. You know she’ll be pissed at me too. I’ll- I’ll buy you that Star Wars lego set you want as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

Spencer brightened. “The Millennium Falcon?” he said.

“Sure, sure, why not, just keep your mouth shut!”

She closed the bathroom door and went back down the hall to the common room. It was Derek’s week to pick for movie night; he was having a great time with whatever Will Ferrell comedy he’d chosen, but Hotch was focused on his homework and Alex was reading a book. Emily sat down in her usual spot, tucking her legs underneath her. Her ear was still burning, but she brushed her hair over it surreptitiously. She could keep it a secret, as long as Spencer did. It would be fine.

By Tuesday, she realized it was not fine.

Her ear continued to swell and throb, the skin red and stretched tight around the barbell in the cartilage. She’d had to actually style her hair every morning instead of throwing it up in a messy ponytail or bun, or asking JJ or Alex to braid it for her. It wouldn’t take long for Alex to catch if she kept this up- she was famous for rolling out of bed at the last minute, getting up early to do her hair was drastically out of character. But she wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of catching her, Hotch or Alex.

She sat down at their usual table in the dining hall and pulled her hair back behind her ear, hissing when her nails brushed the irritated skin. “Oh, fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t good. It really wasn’t good. 

Spencer climbed up on the chair beside her. “Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

She sighed heavily. “How bad does it look?” she asked. 

Spencer knelt on the chair so he could lean his elbows on the table. “Pretty bad,” he said. “Ew, is it oozing? I think it’s oozing.” He wrinkled his nose. “You should tell somebody.”

“Like hell I will,” she said, pulling her hair back into place. “This is a hill I will die on.” She paused. “This…this won’t kill me, will it? I won’t actually die on this hill?”

“Probably not, but infection was one of the leading causes of death during the Civil War,” he shrugged. “Try rinsing with saltwater, that might help.”

“Really?”

“Couldn’t hurt. I mean, in a manner of speaking. It’ll probably hurt a lot.”

Emily blinked. “That wasn’t reassuring, babe,” she said.

Hotch walked over to them and set his tray down. “What are you two talking about?” he asked as he sat down and cracked the top of his yellow Red Bull.

“Nothing,” Emily said quickly, dropping her fork in an effort to pick it up fast.

Alex set a glass of milk down on Spencer’s tray. “Sit on your butt or you’re going to fall on the floor again,” she said. 

Spencer tilted his head back to look up at her. “I wanted chocolate milk,” he objected. 

“Plain first, darling,” she said, bending to kiss his forehead. “Now sit down before you fall out of your chair.” Spencer obeyed, sliding down from his knees to sit down. 

Emily poked her fork around in her scrambled eggs. They were way too yellow and a little watery around the edges, and her stomach turned. “Emily, are you okay?” Hotch asked. 

“Yeah, fine, why do you ask?”

He gestured towards her tray with his Red Bull can. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything since you came back from the party on Friday night,” he said. “Are you still sulking because I told you not to pierce your ear?”

“I don’t sulk,” Emily scoffed.

“Yes, you do,” Hotch said. “You’re pissed because you know I’m right, and it would be a terrible idea to get an industrial. Especially since you don’t have a guardian over eighteen to sign off on it, so it’d be _illegal_.”

Emily stabbed her fork into the eggs. “I’m fine and I’m not sulking,” she said. “But you’re wrong. I’ll be fine if I get my ear pierced.”

She met Spencer’s gaze. His hazel eyes were wide, glancing over first at Hotch and then at Alex, but he kept his mouth shut. Her ear throbbed, but she wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they were right. 

By Friday, she knew they were right, and she hated it, but damn, her ear hurt. 

She huddled in the corner of the library sofa, her history textbook open on her lap but long forgotten. Her ear was an ever-present pain now, too sensitive to touch, and oozing something disgusting. 

The library was quiet and peaceful, rain tapping steadily on the window. James was sorting through his anatomy flashcards while Dave pretended to write a paper while he was really working on the novel he claimed he wasn’t writing. Spencer was lying on his tummy on the floor, absorbed in a book far above his grade level. The rest of the kids were at clubs or practices, and Alex passed by in her own paths as she shelved books and answered questions.

She glanced up to see Spencer watching her poke at her ear; she dropped her hand and glared at him. “Don’t say anything,” she said to him sharply in Russian. “Remember the Millennium Falcon.”

He sighed heavily. “Your ear looks really bad,” he said. His Russian wasn’t as strong as his Italian, and his accent was terrible, but at least James and Dave wouldn’t understand them.

“Not a word!” she said.

Alex plunked down on the opposite side of the couch, jostling Emily and making her scowl. “I’m taking a break,” she sighed. “The sophomores are working on their poetry projects and I don’t want to discuss Ezra Pound anymore.”

Spencer pushed himself up from the floor. “Alex?” he said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dearest,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “What’s up?”

“If I told you I wanted to do something and you said no, and I did it anyway, would you be mad at me?” he asked.

Emily shot him a dirty look, but he ignored her. “Well, I might be a bit disappointed, but I don’t think I’d be mad,” Alex said, squeezing his hands. 

“If I did the thing anyway, and I ended up getting hurt, would you be mad at me?” he asked. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” Alex said, drawing him onto her lap.

“And you wouldn’t tell me you told me so? And you’d help me?” he continued. 

She frowned, clearly concerned over this line of conversation, and hugged him. “Of course I’d help you, baby,” she said. She stroked his hair away from his forehead. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Spencer leaned around Alex’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Emily. She sighed heavily. “So…you know how I wanted to get an industrial piercing, and you and Hotch said it would be a bad idea?” she said hesitantly.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she said. “Why?” Emily tucked her hair slowly behind her ear. “Emily, holy shit!”

“It’s pretty bad, huh?” Emily said glumly.

Alex moved Spencer hastily off her lap and leaned over Emily to take a better look at her ear. “Oh my god,” she said. “James, can you come take a look at this?”

James pulled his headphones off. “Hm?” he said. “Oh shit! Emily, what did you do?”

She submitted reluctantly to his poking and prodding. “So a girl at the party last week offered to pierce my ear,” she said. “And it…kind of went wrong.”

“That looks like it hurts,” Alex said, smoothing her hair. “It looks super infected.”

“Yeah, that’s the medical term for it,” James said. “Holy shit, Prentiss, I can’t believe you pulled a Parent Trap.”

“A Parent Trap?”

“Yeah, when Hallie pierces Annie’s ear with a sewing needle, an apple, and…you know what, never mind.”

Emily winced as the earring shifted. “Can you just…make Hotch promise that he won’t say I told you so?” she said. 

“I think he’ll agree that you’ve suffered enough,” Alex reassured her. 

Spencer hovered at her elbow. “I would have said something sooner, but Emily said she’d buy me the Millennium Falcon set,” he said.

“Please don’t scold me for bribing the baby, either,” Emily said. 

“Okay, I might scold you about that one.”


	28. the library incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hotch has a reputation for being tough. Turns out he doesn't do that well with blood, though.

Aaron Hotchner had developed a fairly nuanced reputation at St. Thaddeus School by the time he reached his senior year. A short fuse and a bad temper (mostly rectified once he finished tenth grade). An ever-present scowl. A workaholic with straight As and perpetual dark circles under his eyes. All in all, a tough teenager who seemed to have no chinks in his armor. **  
**

Which was why his friends were a bit caught off guard by the incident at the library.

The library had become one of their go-to places once it got too cold to wander across campus, especially since Alex didn’t mind letting them in outside of established hours. She did mind, however, when Derek and Emily knocked over a photo frame on her desk and shattered the glass. 

“Guys, are you serious?” she complained as she swept up the catastrophe. 

“We know you hide snacks in here somewhere,” Emily said. “Why won’t you tell us where your stash is?”  
  


“Because you two will eat everything I have, and leave nothing for me,” Alex said.

Spencer hovered in the doorway. “I know where it is, but I’m not telling!” he called. Derek stuck his tongue out at him and grinned at his indignation. 

“Thank you, darling,” Alex said. She dumped the bits of broken glass and cracked wooden frame into the trash. “Don’t come in here, okay? I might have missed some pieces.”

Emily scooped him up under her arm. “Come on, nugget, let’s go see if Rossi and Hotchner are still arguing over Monopoly,” she said. Spencer shrieked with laughter as she threw him over her shoulder and hauled him out of the office.

“Please don’t jostle him, you just let him drink a venti latte,” Alex said. She sighed heavily as she put the pan and broom away. “Just once I’d like to be able to have fun and not have to be everybody’s mother.”

“You’re usually just Spencer’s mother,” Derek suggested. “You’re a big sister to everybody else, if that’s any consolation.”

“It is not,” she said dryly. 

She didn’t mind mothering everyone in their little group, for the most part. And Derek was right, Spencer needed her a lot. But she did have to admit that this wasn’t how she envisioned her senior year. 

The vaulted ceilings of the library echoed with Hotch and Dave squabbling over Monopoly rules. “Are they still doing this?” she asked as she sat down beside James. “

“Yep,” he said, tossing his arm around her shoulders. “They’re so distracted with their fight they haven’t noticed that JJ has stolen most of the money out of the bank.”

Penelope stuck out her lower lip. “I’m just mad they wouldn’t let me be the thimble,” she said.

“That’s it,” Hotch said, pushing himself up from the couch. “That is it, I’m done arguing with you.”

“Why, because I’m right and you don’t want to admit it?” Dave said. 

“No! I’m just done with this stupid game!” Hotch said. “Whose idea was it to play this, anyway?”

“Mine,” Emily said. 

“You’re not even playing. You just picked the thimble and told Spencer to play for you.”

“I know. I figured this would devolve into chaos.”

Hotch huffed in frustration, blowing his dark hair off his forehead. “Well, you can play for me now and you can be the one to argue with Rossi,” he said. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and his scowl deepened. “Shit. My phone’s dead. Alex, do you still keep an extra charger around here?”

“Top drawer of my desk in the office,” Alex said, leaning her cheek on James’s shoulder so he could kiss the top of her head.

JJ spread her play money across the table. “All right, whose turn is it now?” she said. 

Dave frowned. “How did you get so much money all of a sudden?” he said.

“Wise investments.”

Spencer jumped so he could lean over the back of the couch between James and Alex, the tips of his toes dangling above the ground. “Did you know that Monopoly was originally called The Landlord’s Game?” he asked. “It was created in 1903 based on the economic theories of Henry George, particularly his theories on taxation.”

“How do you know that?” Derek asked. “How do you know so much random stuff? Where does it all fit in that tiny little fourth-grader brain of yours?”

“The hippocampus, most likely,” he said, frowning. “And technically, I’m a ninth grader.” 

“A ninth grader in a booster seat,” Derek said half under his breath, and JJ hid a laugh behind her hand. 

Spencer’s jaw dropped. “That’s not fair!” he said. “Alex said that teasing me about the booster seat is off limits!” 

“All right, all right, I’m sorry, pretty boy,” Derek said as Spencer clambered awkwardly over the side of the couch and slid down to nestle between Alex and James. “Really, though, how do you know so much stuff? You don’t even use the internet.”

“I read a lot,” Spencer sulked, tucking his cheek against Alex’s arm. 

Something clattered in the office and Alex jumped. “Did something else break?” Penelope asked.

“God, I hope not,” Alex said. “Hotch? Did you break something?”

A long pause.

“No?”

“That didn’t sound reassuring,” Emily said. 

Alex tilted her head back. “Seriously, did you break something?” she called. 

“Uh…can you come here for a second?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just tell me what you broke!” she shouted. “Jesus. This is the last time I unlock the library on a Saturday.”

“Alexandra! Come here!” 

Alex blinked in surprise. “Oh, you got the full name,” James said. “That’s not good.”

She hoisted Spencer onto James’s lap. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “Hopefully whatever he broke is fixable. Unlike my picture frame.”

“I already ordered you a new one,” Emily said. “Can’t you just tell us where you keep your snack stash so we stop snooping around?”

“Nope,” Alex said. “But thanks for replacing it.” She walked behind the desk and opened the office door. “All right, what did you do?”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Her chair had been knocked onto its side, and Hotch was leaning against the wall clutching his arm. “What did you do?” she repeated, this time with genuine concern. 

“There was, uh, something sharp on your desk,” Hotch said. His face was paper white. “I didn’t see it.”

“Did you cut yourself?” she asked.

He nodded frantically. “I don’t do blood,” he said. “I don’t do blood at all.”

“Okay, okay, well…don’t look at it,” she said. She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to sit down at the desk next to hers. His knees buckled and he sat down a little too hard. “Are you going to pass out?”

“Not sure yet,” he said, squinching his eyes shut tightly. “Oh god. Oh, god. How bad is it?”

She took his hand in both of hers. “I don’t know, you have to let me see it,” she said. But she could already see the blood seeping through his fingers, and she wasn’t surprised to see a long cut across his palm when he stiffly unfolded his hand. 

“Do I need stitches?” he asked faintly. 

“I don’t think so,” she said. She grabbed a handful of tissues off the desk and pressed them to his palm, then gently bent his elbow until his hand was level with his shoulder. “Please try to give me some kind of advanced warning if you’re going to pass out on me. I can’t catch you.”

“I’m not gonna,” he mumbled, his lips slack. 

“Yeah, that sounded super convincing,” she said. She adjusted her pressure on the bleeding cut. “Keep your eyes closed and breathe, bubba. It’s okay.”

Hotch leaned his head against her stomach as she stood over him. “How bad is it?” he mumbled. 

She took a peek. “Not bad, it’s slowing down,” she said. “Your shirt is probably a lost cause though.”

“Oh, god,” Hotch groaned. 

Alex stroked his hair back from his forehead. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this,” she said. “Aaron Hotchner, the most intimidating boy in the eleventh grade, spooked by blood.”

“I hate it,” he groaned. “I can’t help it. You won’t tell the others, will you?”

Alex glanced back at the glass office door. “Uh…” she said. “It might be a little late for that.”

“Oh, shit,” Hotch said, his eyes still closed. “They’re not all-”

“Staring at you through the window? Yeah, they’re all there.”

Emily rapped on the glass. “Are you okay?” she shouted. 

“Don’t tie a tourniquet, he might lose the whole arm!” Spencer said. 

“He’s fine, it’s just a little scratch,” Alex said. “And he doesn’t need a tourniquet, just a bandage. James, can you get the first aid kit from the circulation desk?”

“Already on it.”

Hotch exhaled slowly. A little bit of color had returned to his cheeks, but he was still a little too pale and clammy for her liking. “Thanks for helping me,” he said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t pass out,” she said. “But don’t worry. I’ll always help if you need me.”

He smiled, his eyes still closed. “You’re a really good big sister,” he said, almost teasing.

She grinned. “Twin sister,” she corrected, and he laughed. 


	29. star wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penelope never turns down a chance to cosplay

“Why am I here?” Hotch said.

“Because you will have  _ fun _ ,” Penelope said sternly. She abruptly yanked on his arm, making him lean far enough forward for her to drape the lanyard over his neck. “Now don’t lose that. You lose your con badge, they won’t let you into anything.”

“Oh, no, we can’t let that happen,” Hotch deadpanned.

Emily elbowed him in the ribs. “Lighten up, dude, I think she’s right,” she said. “I think it’ll be pretty fun.”

“Besides, she worked so hard on the costumes, you can’t let her down,” JJ added.

“None of us  _ wanted  _ these costumes,” Hotch said. “She did this of her own free will. Who am I supposed to be again?”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I thought he was old.”

“Only in the original trilogy. In the prequel trilogy, he’s young and hot.”

“I just don’t understand why I couldn’t be Darth Vader,” Dave complained. 

Penelope rolled her eyes. “Because Derek is already Darth Vader,” she said. 

“No, you said he’s somebody named Anakin.”

“They’re the same person,” Derek said. He grinned. “I’m just the young and hot Darth Vader.”

“Okay, why couldn’t  _ I  _ be the young and hot Darth Vader?” Dave asked.

“Because I’m Padme, and I wanted Derek to be my Anakin,” Penelope explained patiently, preening as she fluttered the sleeves of her yellow and pink ombre gown. “ _ You  _ are Qui-Gon Jinn. Piss me off a little more and I’ll make you be Chewbacca.”

“Oh, he should have been Chewbacca,” Emily nodded sagely.

“Like you know what your character is,” Dave scoffed.

“Fuck you, I’m Rey,” Emily said. “And it took Penelope like forty-five minutes to do my hair like this.”

“Well, JJ-”

“I’m Jyn Erso,” JJ interrupted.

Dave threw his hands up in frustration. “How the hell do you guys know all this stuff?” he said. “And how did we get talked into this?”

“That’s my question,” Hotch added.

“It’s because a particular child is fucking  _ obsessed  _ with Star Wars and watches them in an unending loop,” Emily said. “And also because none of you are able to say no that particular child.”

“Speaking of which, I still wish we could have gotten him to be baby Yoda, he would have been so cute,” JJ said.

“Yeah, Hotch could have been the Mandolin guy and carried him around.”

“The Mandalorian,” Derek corrected

“What the  _ fuck  _ do any of these words mean?” Dave demanded, but they collectively ignored him.

“We couldn’t make him baby Yoda, he got so mad about being a baby he cried, and then he wouldn’t stop crying until we promised him he could be Luke Skywalker,” Penelope said. She paused. “Oh god, are we spoiling him?”

“Maybe a little,” Hotch admitted.

Spencer zipped over to them. “Look what I found!” he screeched, holding a book above his head. “I’ve been looking for this one forever!”

Alex and James trailed behind him; James was dressed as Han Solo and Alex was in Leia’s Cloud City costume. “We should probably keep him away from the collectibles,” she said. 

“Yeah, I had no idea Star Wars people were so obsessed with merchandise,” James said as he linked his fingers through Alex’s.

Penelope patted his cheek. “Oh, my sweet summer child,” she said. “You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally posting my tumblr drabbles to AO3!! I do still take requests, albeit slowly, but mostly I'm trying to prepare for Whumptober! I'm themetaphorgirl over there; let me know if you're doing Whumptober too!


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